Creepy with a Chance of Monsters
by yensid365
Summary: In honor of their recent heroic deeds, the President invites Flint and the gang to speak at the White House, and make plans to expand Sparkswood across the globe. During their stay, however, Flint is diagnosed with Asperger Syndrome, and he creates an invention to try to get rid of it. But on Halloween night, the device goes awry, and deforms Flint's brain into that of a monster!
1. Letter from the White House

**Chp. 1**

Sparkswood was more than Flint Lockwood had ever imagined. Not only did he finally obtain the perfect laboratory, but the love and friendship he'd been longing for since childhood. Much of the vegetation covering Swallow Falls had been cleaned off for the citizens to rebuild their homes and businesses while keeping the territory of the Foodimals, such as Coconut Falls and Big Rock Candy Mountain, bordered with 10-foot metal fences several miles away from town.

On that particular morning, as an orange sun rose on the horizon, Flint Lockwood and Sam Sparks were inside the top floor of their lab, the round den that used to belong to Flint alone. They were standing at a round table that sat in between the two gaping computer monitors to their left and right.

Using the greatest of care, Flint placed an object covered in tarp on the table as if it were as fragile as a newborn baby.

"Behold…the latest addition to Sparkswood technology…another amazing, yet hopefully NOT dangerous, innovation in the world of science…I give you…"

Flint pressed a red button on a remote control, and a tiny metal claw lifted the tarp.

"The Brain Transmogrifier!"

The tarp revealed a black motorcycle helmet with a red police siren bolted to the top. There was a horizontal row of four toothpaste caps on each side of the helmet, modified to resemble tuning knobs, as one would see on a radio or vintage television. A vertical, clear, plastic meter sat above each knob. On the far right, toward the back was a genuine tuning knob, the size of a man's palm, with the words "On" and "Off painted on the helmet with white permanent marker. The same marker had also been used to decorate the helmet with Flint's signature, jagged-line pattern.

Sam's eyes lit up. "Oooh…what's it do?"

"With enough fine-tuning and solid testing, this device will be a breakthrough in the everlasting struggle to rid the world of mental illness!"

Sam gasped. "Oh Flint, this is probably your most generous idea ever! Think of all the lives we could save with a remedy like this!"

Flint beamed and shook his hands like an ecstatic teenage girl. "I wish I could show this to all the doctors in the world! They'd all love it!"

Sam opened up her WWN email account in her computer behind Flint's. She had 193 unread messages in her Inbox. "You know, Flint, ever since that incident with Chester V, the Weather News Network has referred us to all sorts of other news outlets across the country! National TV News, Knox News Station, New York Times! They all wanna hear stories about us and Sparkswood!"

Flint's eyes went wide at all the emails. "Whoa! Well, I said we need all the friends we can get, so this'll be a chance for us to go make some!"

Just then, a voice on an overhead intercom spoke out. "Flint, Sam, you two want some breakfast?"

"Sure, Dad!"

"Coming, Mr. Lockwood!"

Flint and Sam headed down an elongated, pneumatic, elevator tube down toward the kitchen, and had turned Flint's theme song into a duet for the two of them to hum to each other.

At the base level of Sparkswood was a replica of the Lockwood's kitchen from their old house. While Tim fried some eggs on the stove, Manny read the morning newspaper at the kitchen table. Barb was fixing up some coffee by the brewer.

She stared at Steve with affection as he nibbled on a pancake covered in syrup.

"Oh, Steve, last night was wonderful! We should do something like that again really soon…"

"Sweet!"

Barb blushed. "Oh, you!"

Everyone stopped and turned around as the elevator gently landed in an opening next to the fridge, and Sam and Flint finished their duet.

Tim smiled. "That's a cute little song you got there."

"Thanks, Dad, though it's not really a song yet. Still a work in progress."

Barb poured everyone some coffee in some colored mugs, and served one to everyone at the table. "Here ya go, guys. A mild mocha for Sam, a soy latte for Flint, and Manny? Un cappuccino con mocha extra, y un toque de menta."

Manny smiled, and took his mug. "Muchas gracias, señorita mono."

Tim joined the rest of his family down for pancakes. "So, son, what are you and Sam workin' on up there?"

"Well, besides the Brain Transmogrifier, I've been meaning to test a new invention that's the perfect touch for life's most exciting moments! The Para-Shooter!"

Flint held his hands up as if he thought he was holding it, but instead, he was holding Manny's camera case. Flint's face went wide with alarm. "Where is it?! Where'd it go!?"

Just then, "STEVE!"

Steve was outside by the front door holding a brown backpack that had a white pull string dangling out the flap.

Flint raced over waving his frightened arms in front of him. "AHH! STEVE, NO NO NO NO, DON'T PLAY WITH THAT! GIVE ME BACK THAT-"

WOOSH! The minute the string was pulled, Flint and Steve were shot up several hundred feet in the air with the backpack! They were being propelled by a miniature rocket turbine, which left a thick trail of smoke and confetti where they had taken off. When the two were about a thousand feet in the air, they started plummeting back down!

Flint dug a desperate hand inside the pack. "WHERE'S THE PARACHUTE, WHERE'S THE PARACHUTE?! C'MON, C'MON, HURRY!"

FWOOM! The parachute shot up when they were a hundred feet above their mailbox, landing gently on the ground just in the nick of time. Sam, Tim, Barb and Manny were waiting below.

After the two had landed, Flint and Steve trembled violently on the front lawn as one would during Earthquake. Everyone else helped Flint up to his adhesive-coated feet.

"Flint, are you ok?!" Sam cried.

"You're shakin' like a leaf, son!" Tim added.

A mere three seconds later, Flint stopped shaking altogether, and instead, beamed with excitement. "YES! Ha ha, it worked! Oh, I can't wait to try that again!"

As Flint stuffed the parachute back into the backpack, the gang helped pick up all the mail that had scattered on the grass. Barb noticed one particular envelope, cocked her head, and then gasped when she saw the address.

"FLINT, FLINT, GUYS, YOU GOTTA SEE THIS! YOU GOTTA SEE THIS!"

Barb handed Flint the envelope. It had a red, presidential seal stamped onto the flap, a stamp of the American Flag, and it was sent from Washington DC!

"It's a letter from…THE WHITE HOUSE?!"

Flint quickly opened it up, and read it out loud.

_Dear Mr. Flint Lockwood,_

_In light of your recent, extraordinary acts of heroism in regards to the food storm and the defeat of Chester V, I invite you to speak at a public convention, sponsored by the National Science Foundation, at Washington D.C. on November 1st of this year. This esteemed, government organization has recognized your outstanding courage and contributions to science as deeds worthy of nationwide appraisal. Should you, your friends, and family decide to attend this exclusive event, you shall receive an official Presidential Award for Excellence in Science, Mathematics, and Engineering Mentoring, and a $1,000,000 grant for an expansion of Sparkswood Laboratories at any United States location of your choosing._

_It is an immense honor having brilliant minds as those now running Sparkswood Laboratories pave the way for the future of science in America._

_Sincerely Yours,_

_UNITED STATES PRESIDENT WILLIAM OSWALD BAINE_

Sam's eyes and jaw gaped. "The President wants us to come and speak about Sparkswood?!"

With wide eyes and an even wider smile, Flint pulled the string on his Parashooter again without a trace of hesitation, sending him flying up in the air again.

"WOOO-HOOOOOOOO!"

Steve stared up and jumped excitedly. "Go! Go! Go! Go!"

Barb nodded and swooned with ecstasy. "Well of course we're going, Steve! Finally, a golden opportunity for all mankind to see apes in a more respected light!"

Sam added. "AND he's given us a million dollars to expand Sparkswood to another branch in the rest of the US! We can inspire people all over the world in ways Live Corp could only dare to dream!"

Manny was filling out page after page in his tiny notepad. "I will make sure each and every member of my biological and surrogate family hears about this."

He then put his hat over his heart and stared up at the heavens. "Great Grandfather Abuelo, today, I have made you proud."

Tim caught his excited son in his arms and smiled. "I don't believe it. My son, a national hero. I don't think your mom would've been any more proud of ya."

Flint smiled back and hugged his dad for a moment.

Sam wrote down some more on Manny's notepad. "And we can't forget to invite Earl and Brent! Oh, and the whole town's gonna wanna watch too! Manny, make sure Swallow Falls stays connected to the major news networks!"

Flint shook his fists together with excitement. "How soon can we get there?! How soon can we get there?!"

Sam looked at her cell phone. "Well, today is October 25th, so the event's not for another week."

"Then it's settled! We'll leave in twenty minutes!"

"Huh?!"


	2. Don't Shoot!

Sam smiled and gave Barry a pat on the stem. "Now you take good care of yourself and the Foodimals while we're gone, ok?"

"Yeah yeah yeah!"

Flint nodded. "And if for any reason something goes wrong, you can find us anytime by using the Grocery Deliverator."

Barry saluted with one leafy hand. "Yeah, En Woo!"

The herds of Watermelephants, Hippotatoes, Pickles, and Lemmins saluted with him. "Yeah, En Woo!"

Flint smiled and dashed off. "See ya next week!"

Flint and Sam rushed off to the top of Big Rock Candy Mountain, where Tim, Brent, Manny, and Earl were each holding another one of Flint's contraptions in their hands; a single, metal clothes hanger with a pair of folded wings made of red umbrellas.

Earl looked at his with utter confusion. "Uh, explain to me how a tiny hanger and a pair of umbrella wings are gonna fly us all the way to Washington?"

Brent couldn't stop looking down. "A-A-And why we had to be up so high?!"

Flint chuckled. "Easy! Solar power from our helmets!"

Flint gave everybody a red crash helmet with a solar panel attached to the top. Flint then walked out toward the edge of the mountain, holding his hanger in front of his arms, and Steve hiding in his backpack.

Flint mimicked a pilot's intercom, using his hand as the device. "This is Captain Flint Lockwood speaking, thank you for joining us at the Sparkswood Glide Hanger airlines! Please keep your hands onto your hanger at all times, and make sure your life lines are secured nice and tight!"

Everyone buckled up a car seatbelt that was attached to a yellow bungie cord tied up at the hook of each hanger.

"And if for any reason your flight is unsuccessful, a Cheespider safety web will there to catch you in the nick of time." Flint pointed to the expanded, cheesy spider web that lay at the bottom of the mountain, spread out 2 miles up ahead.

Flint then held his helmet over his head. "All righty! Initiating solar power!"

The second Flint had his headgear on, the umbrella wings spread open. He glared bravely out into the distance with a wide smile.

"Aaaaaand, take off!"

Flint jumped right off the edge of the mountain, and plummeted hundreds of feet down! Everyone screamed and watched Flint fall.

"FLINT!"

But Flint kept his nose pointed straight down toward the ground, and within seconds, the solar panel started to light up! Flint leaned his body up toward the sky just before he could land on a Cheespider web, and zipped straight up to the clouds, sailing over a hundred above the island and twenty feet in front of his friends.

"WHO-HOO! YEAH! C'MON, GUYS, IT WORKS! JUST KEEP YOUR BODY POINTED TOWARD THE GROUND UNTIL THE SOLAR PANELS KICK IN!"

Earl took a deep breath. "Tell my angel son, Cal, I always loved him!"

Earl screamed as he plummeted in the air just like Flint did, but also like Flint, he zipped back in the air once he'd gained enough momentum and the solar panels activated.

"WHOOO! YEAH!"

Brent jumped in afterwards. "WAIT FOR MEEEEEE!"

Soon, Sam, Barb, and Manny were in the skies as well.

Flint looked back at the last flier left. "C'mon, Dad, the air is fine!"

Tim stared at the ground with wide eyes. "…Are you nuts, son?! I'm gonna get killed!"

Flint put one hand to his ear. "What?!"

"I said I'm gonna get killed!"

"WHAT?! SPEAK UP, DAD!"

"I SAID-"

The rock candy Tim was standing on cracked beneath his feet, causing the edge of the cliff to fall off. Tim screamed in panic at first, until he quickly remembered Flint's instructions, and just barely made it to the skies before he could land into the web of cheese.

"Oi…I think I got a heartburn back there…"

Brent swerved his hanger back and forth. "WOO-HOO! I knew chickens could fly!"

Flint smiled. "All right, everybody! Let's go!"

As everybody flew off, Barry and the Foodimals waved from the docks below, and all the townspeople waved and cheered from their own homes. Flint and the gang shouted their goodbyes back as they left their colorful, food-coated home of Swallow Falls.

Every hallway, balcony, and floor of the White House, inside and out, was fully guarded; from the elongated, marble galleries that showcased busts and portraits of all the past presidents, to right outside the golden stall inside the men's room, which was humorously labeled "Oval Office #2" and decorated with the presidential seal. The young men guarding the Commander in Chief and his establishment were government agents of different races, all wearing navy-blue suits, black sunglasses, and silver communication devices in their left ear, which resembled hearing aids with a single red button. They all strolled about the White House with the same, emotionless, solemn expressions on their face, communicating to each other by mere nods, bows, and speaking through the devices in their ear.

A blonde and a brunette agent in their late thirties stood on the mile-long balcony that stretched across the entire back of the White House. They spotted Flint and his friends flying five hundred feet away, though from where the agents were standing, they looked more like human silhouettes with bat wings!

The blonde agent put one finger on his communication device. "ALERT, ALERT! UNAUTHORIZED VEHICLES DETECTED ABOVE THE ROSE GARDEN!"

Two male guards, dressed in white cadet caps and navy-blue coats, spotted the supposed danger, and started shooting their distant targets with black, AR-15 machine guns!

Sam was the first to notice bullet holes on her wings. "LOOK OUT!"

Everybody maneuvered their hangers as much as they could, trying to fly around the bullets that were coming right for them.

One bullet parted the headpiece of Brent's chicken suit right down the middle, splitting the red top in two. "…Uh oh!"

Manny dodged the bullets as if he were as fast as one himself, darting his tiny body up, down, and sideways.

Flint screamed from the top of his lungs as he flinched his way around the gunshots. "HEY, YOU GUYS DOWN THERE! STOP SHOOTING AT US! IT'S ME, FLINT LOCKWOOD! WE MEAN YOU NO HARM!"

The National Guard lowered their weapons when they saw Flint and the others at a closer look, about a hundred feet above them, slowly making their descent into the open field of grass in the Rose Garden. The second their feet touched the ground, a dozen agents surrounded them, blocking their exit in a fence of navy-blue suits. Everyone was unsettled to see the dozens of black sunglasses staring at them at once.

Brent gave a nervous smile. "Uhh, hiya, dudes?"

A ginger agent pointed at a frightened Barb. "Take off the monkey suit!"

Barb glared. "I'm an ape, sir, and this isn't a suit! It's my body!"

Earl showed his police badge. "Uh, I'm a man of the law too. You guys ok with that?"

All the agents shouted in unison. "NO!"

Flint gave a sheepish smile and wave, and pulled out his letter from his pant's pocket. "Uh, e-excuse me. I-I'm Flint Lockwood. The President invited me and my friends here for an event next week?"

The blonde agent snatched the letter out of Flint's hand, and skimmed through it with speeding eyes. He spoke with a deep, solemn, almost monotonous, tone in his voice.

"Mr. Lockwood, are you at all aware that it is against federal law for any unauthorized vehicle to fly or drive anywhere within a ten mile radius from the White House?"

"…Uhhhh-"

"We'll let it slip by this time, Mr. Lockwood, but neglect the rule of law again, and we _won't_ go easy on you."

The agent showed his glaring, green eyes at the word "won't," making Flint swallow hard.

"We're perfectly aware of your arrival, Mr. Lockwood and company, but unfortunately, you will not be able to see President Baine until the day of the event. You are also strictly forbidden to bring any unauthorized inventions to the White House grounds, unless approved by the President himself."

"So, I guess, technically that makes _all_ my inventions…unauthorized?"

"That is correct. You have exactly sixty seconds to take them out of here before White House security will confiscate them for the President's own safety."

"Right, got it, leaving, see ya next week!"

Flint and his friends raced off toward the exit gates as fast as their legs could carry them.

The blonde agent rolled his annoyed eyes. "He's in his mid-twenties, and he acts like he's ten."

Once the gang was outside the towering, White House gates, they stopped to catch their breath.

Flint rubbed the back of his neck. "Gee…talk about strict."

Tim glared down at his son with folded arms. "Talk about irresponsible. You didn't check to see if we had permission to land at the White House in the first place?!"

"Well, I-I just assumed that if he knew it was me, he might-"

"Did ya let him know we were comin' over today?"

"Um, well, no, but-"

"Well then no wonder those guys nearly killed us! The President's got armed guards 24/7, son! If they see anything strange and unfamiliar flyin' towards him, they shoot on sight! Didn't you ever think of these sort of things before we left?!"

Tim held onto his son's shoulders, his expression changing from anger to deep concern. Flint stared down nervously. "Well…..no, to be honest, I…didn't…"

Tim sighed. "You're way too old and smart to be this disorganized and immature, Flint. Please, for everyone's safety, don't_ever_ do anything like that again…"

"Yes, Dad, I mean, no, Dad, I mean…I promise I'll never do anything like that again, Dad."

Tim let go and stood back up. "Now c'mon. Let's get to our hotel, before somethin' else happens."

Flint trudged sadly behind his father, keeping his head and arms hanging down. Everyone else simply followed anxiously, trying not to attract anymore attention than Flint already had.

As they passed by the neighborhoods near the White House, many witnessing adults stopped and snickered at Flint's exaggerated pose. A ten year old boy even mimicked Flint's posture in front of a group of his friends, making them all laugh.

Flint stared off into space. In his mind, he could imagine a montage of Parent Teacher Conferences he and his parents had been to throughout his childhood, one teacher after the next sitting at their desk talking to Flint's mom and dad.

_First grade, a thirty-year old blonde woman. "Mr. and Mrs. Lockwood, I'm very concerned about your son's behavior. He has little interest playing with the other children…"_

_Second, a brunette man with glasses in his early forties. "…He has trouble with basic social interaction, like telling jokes or making polite conversation…"_

_Third, a Asian in her late twenties. "…And doesn't show any interest in subjects not related to science or inventing."_

_Fourth, a red-head in his early thirties. "I highly recommend that he be taken to a special ed class."_

_Special Ed Teacher, a long-haired Hispanic in her middle ages. "Perhaps you could try a counselor."_

_A child therapist, a blonde in her thirties with a cropped haircut. "He needs to be sent to charter school."_

_Charter teacher, a thirty-year-old African-American woman. "Catholic School?"_

_An elderly nun, slamming a crucifix on her desk like a knife. "Repent thy sins!"_

_Private teacher, a middle-aged brunette with his face buried in his hands. "Just-just homeschool him, _please…_"_

Flint buried his hands in his hair with frustration as he felt his old growing pains coming back to haunt him…


	3. BANG!

Later that night, everyone stayed at an elaborate, ten-story hotel called the Ritzy Inn D.C. Flint, Brent, Tim, Earl and Manny shared one bedroom suite while Barb and Sam shared another next door. Both were complete with a pair of red, velvet double beds, a flat screen television, a miniature fridge, and a balcony out the sliding glass doors that showed a view of the entire D.C. cityscape.

Brent laid down on the navy-blue, fleece carpet like a sleepy dog. "Ohhh, man this fuzzy floor feels so goooood! Hey, you don't mind if I sleep down here, do ya?"

Earl looked down, unimpressed. "Could ya maybe wait until we've at least gotten in our room first?"

Brent turned around with wide eyes; his big body was blocking everyone from getting in through the door. "Sorry…"

Flint walked over Brent, his head still hanging low, and plopped his suitcase on one of the beds.

Tim followed him in concern. "…Flint, what ya did was really dumb, but don't be _too _hard on yourself. We're still ok. Just let it go and move on."

"That's just it, Dad. I can't just let it go. This is the 5th time within the last year that I've accidentally almost hurt the people I love. There was the incident with Sardine Land, the Food Storm with the FLDSMDFR, I nearly wiped out all the Foodimals, you guys were almost turned into Food Bars, and now this! I don't try to put you guys in danger. In fact, I work real hard to try and make you guys happy, and yet, one way or another, I end up putting everybody's lives at risk. I never mean to, but it still happens…and I don't know why."

Tim tried to sound as confident as he could. "Look, son, it's not that bad. Y-Ya just gotta learn from your mistakes, and then don't do it again. It's not that hard."

"It is if you make more of the same mistakes while trying to stop them from happening again. It's like…remember back in school? When all the teachers said there was something wrong with my behavior, but they couldn't figure it out? I feel like it's that problem coming back again. Something's keeping me from being the most responsible, adult scientist that I should be, and I don't know what."

Flint flopped face-first on his pillow.

Tim patted his son's back. "…Don't think about it too much, Skipper. You're not that bad."

Brent slapped on some swim trunks. "Yeah, Flint. C'mon and join us in the hot tub. That'll make ya feel better."

Flint gave Brent a small smile. "Thanks, Brent, but I can't swim, and I can't take off my Spray-On Shoes either."

Tim smirked. "The water's only 6 feet deep, son. Besides, I don't think your shoes will be a problem if people are ok with Earl wearin' THAT thing…"

Earl wore a purple Speedo that was as tight as his police pants. Flint cringed a bit at the sight, but smiled back at his Dad. "Ok, sure, I'll give it a try."

Flint clung onto a white support beam as if it were a tree trunk. "I am NOT giving it a try!"

Sam and the others gave him awkward or unimpressed facial expressions. They were all sitting in an a white-tile hot tub next to a large, swimming pool, both of which were underneath a glass roof, and bordered with white, concrete walls.

"Flint, you are NOT gonna drown in a hot tub!" Earl groaned.

Manny added. "Even I, who is only half the size of this tub, am still alive and well."

Flint pointed. "But look! You can't even see the bottom of that thing!"

Everyone lifted their feet up, which were only blocked by the immense bubbles. Flint stopped shaking, and just looked down in embarrassment. "Oh…"

Some other guests in the larger pool pointed and laughed at Flint's little episode of paranoia. The scientist shimmied down the beam in shame, his face as red as his crimson swim trunks.

Sam glanced up at the frost-covered roof. "Good thing this pool is indoors. It's getting unseasonably cold out for this time of year."

The next morning, the gang walked out to the front lobby, bundled up in colored, winter coats and gloves, gazing at the eight inches of snow that had frosted the entire District of Colombia.

Brent's eyes nearly burst the hood of his chicken-coat. "It's snowing!"

He then rushed into the ground, spread his wing-like coat sleeves up and down, and stood back up. "My first chicken snow angel!"

Steve popped up from underneath the snow, looking like an Albino monkey. "Cold!"

Sam showed a map of the DC area on her cell phone, holding it with brown gloves. "Well, as long as we're here, we might as well do some sight seeing. Flint, you kept all your inventions back in the hotel, right?"

Flint gave Sam a thumbs up with his baby-blue mittens. "Yep, nothin' but my cell phone, and Sprayed-On Shoes."

"Then, on we go."

The gang made their way to the National Mall, a wide-open park that spread a mile long and half a mile wide behind the White House. It was complete with all its landmark splendors; the Washington Monument, the Lincoln Memorial, the Smithsonian Museum, all the sights that would enthrall the hearts of any patriotic tourist...well, any except Flint Lockwood.

While Sam and the others ventured through the sights, cherishing this rare vacation, Flint found himself constantly distracted by the simplest of pleasures that would seem more fitting to amuse a six-year-old than a twenty-five-year-old inventor. While everyone else peered at the gaping view from the top floor of the Washington monument, Flint stared up at the passing clouds above, imagining them as different Foodimals such as Watermelephants, Cucumbirds, and Buffaloafs. At the Constitution Gardens, Sam and the others took turns feeding the geese bread crumbs and taking amusing poses at the massive lake. Brent even tried to swim like the geese, but leaped right out of the water, his shivering body turning teal-blue. However, Flint just stared aimlessly at the water, holding a wooden branch with a weeping willow strand attached to the end, resembling an ameture fishing rod, waiting in vain for a bite. The only sight that seemed to remotely fascinate Flint was the National Air and Space Museum branch of the Smithsonian, which mostly consisted of colossal collections of historic vehicles, such as the Apollo 11 Command Module or Amelia Earhart's signature biplane. The young inventor would analyze the descriptions of the machine's inner workings, his eyes darting across the words like a computer scanner, all while humming his own theme song to himself. But, eventually, Sam, Tim, or Brent would let Flint know that they were moving on, and he would reluctantly return to his less pleasant reality.

As everyone headed out of the Smithsonian, the others finally picked up on their friend's unease.

"You ok, Flint?" Sam asked. "You've been wandering around by yourself all day."

Flint tried to mask his anxiety with a smile. "No I haven't. I've been looking around at the exhibits and stuff like you guys have."

Tim added. "You've been lookin' at pretty much everything BUT exhibits."

Earl raised an eyebrow. "You sure you're ok? You seem really tense."

"Tense? No, no no no no, just a little chilly from being outside, that's all."

Sam frowned. "Flint, we just came out of a heated, INDOOR exhibit…"

Flint looked down at the ground; he was clearly not a very good liar.

Sam put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Flint, please tell us what's wrong. We wanna help you in any way we can."

Flint noticed everybody gathering around him, and struggled to get the right words out. "Well, I-I, um…I-OOF!"

Brent had thrown a snowball across the group, and smacked Flint in the back of the head!

"Gotcha!"

Flint sighed in relief, and made a relaxed smile, rolling up a snowball back. "I feel a lot better already…SNOWBALL!"

The rest of the gang watched as Flint went back to his cheery self, pelting Brent with snowballs across picnic areas in the Mall. Still, they couldn't help looking at each other with confusion.

Then Manny broke the silence. "Hmm, none of these particular sights are of any interest to Flint. He appears to gets anxious when he is outside his typical comfort zone for an extended period of time."

Tim nodded. "That's always been a problem since he was a kid. He was always nervous about tryin' new things, so he got more involved with his own interests than anybody else's."

Sam looked confused. "But he used to not like fishing, and now he does it with you a lot back home."

"Yeah, sometimes he gets into these phases where he'll reeeeeally love a certain interest a lot, but until he feels he's ready ta try it, he won't even touch it."

Barb cringed. "And people say I'M a monkey…"

Flint chased Brent down a White House Gift Shop on the outskirts of the National Mall, still tossing snowballs at each other.

Brent rushed inside the lobby, laughing and stopping to catch his breath. "Ok ok, dude, you win!"

Flint smirked, rolling up his last few snowballs. "I don't think so…snowball, and snowball!"

A pair of Caucasian security guards raced toward Flint. "Hey, what the heck are you-?!"

"SNOWBALL!"

But as Flint tossed his last snowball one of the guards, he instinctively drew his pistol in a split second flat, and before the snowball even hit his chest…

_BANG!_

Sam and the others jumped back at the gunshot. Earl winced and clung onto his chest. "Oh man…my chest hairs have upgraded from just tinglin' to burnin' up somethin' fierce!"

Sam gasped. "Oh my gosh, where's Flint and Brent?!"

The entire lobby of the White House gift shop, inside and out, was blocked by a fence of yellow police tape. A red ambulance sat parked next to the entranxe doors, with two police cars parked to the left. Though five security gusrds were blocking any curious visitors, a crowd of several dozen visitors stood anxiously behind the police tape, trying to look at the crisis behind the glass doors.

In the lobby, an outraged Tim Lockwood was giving the shooter guard a severe dressing down.

"You shot my son over a SNOWBALL?!"

"We had no idea, sir! For all we know, that could've been a snow-covered bomb waiting to blow the capital!"

About twenty feet to Tim's left, Sam, Brent, Barb and Manny sat beside a horrified, extremely distraught Flint on the granite floor. The poor inventor sat there crying hard and squeezing Sam's right hand as Manny carefully observed Flint's blood-stained right hip, tearing the bullet hole in his jeans even farther for a closer look.

Brent watched Manny with intense focus. "Easy, Manny, careful, easy...whoa whoa, watch it, Manny! Manny, be careful! Easy!"

Earl glared. "Glad to see _you're_ bein' the brave one tonight..."

Finally, Manny looked up. "The bullet appears to be only skin deep, but we need to get Flint to the hospital to have it properly removed."

The gang all walked Flint inside the ambulance, and he lied down on his left side on a cushion stretcher.

Tim sat beside Flint, holding his right hand. "Don't you worry, son. Those guards ain't gonna get away with this. I'll find you the best lawyer around, we'll sue the guards for excessive violence, and-!"

"Thanks, Dad, but…I just wanna go home…"

Poor Flint buried his face in his pillow, sobbing, as the ambulance drove off drove away from the main entrance of the National Mall, and into the cold, dimly lit streets of of Washington DC.


	4. The Diagnosis

By 9:38 PM, Flint was lying under the comforters of a white, hospital bed, wearing nothing but a blue patient's gown, grey boxers, and the thick, white bandages that sealed his entire right hip. His old clothes were vacuum-sealed in a plastic bag, including the wedgie-proof underpants that now had a gaping hole where its wearer was shot.

After a moment of quiet, a black physician in her early 30s peeked her head around an open door. She wore a black ponytail, and light green doctor's scrubs. "He's ready to see you now."

Tim and the others were sitting on a wooden bench just outside the room, and walked carefully inside once they saw the doctor. However, she blocked Barb and Steve from getting through.

"I'm sorry, but no animals allowed in the hospital suites."

Barb frowned. "But I'm not an animal! I've got a human brain!"

"I'm sorry, m'am. Hospital rules."

Steve whimpered after the doctor shut the door. Barb gently stroked his back in comfort.

Flint hugged every one of his friends and family when they approached him. "Sam, Dad, guys...you're all still here."

Sam frowned. "Of course we're still here. We weren't just gonna take you to the hospital and leave."

Tim turned to the physician. "How is he, miss?"

"As Manny explained, the bullet was only a flesh wound, so there's no permanent damage in his bones or muscles, but he needs to stay here for another twenty-four hours to recover from the operation. The wound itself won't be completely healed for at least three months, so don't exert yourself with any vigorous activity for a while, Flint."

Flint glanced down at his hip. "Three months? I reeeeally hope this doesn't interfere with any inventing."

The doctor gave Flint a sympathetic frown. "I can't imagine why anybody would wanna shoot you in the first place! You're Flint Lockwood, for cryin' out loud; you're no assassin!"

"I was having a snowball fight with Brent, and I threw one at one of the guards, thinking they might wanna join us. But one of them thought it was a weapon, and hurt me."

Earl raised an eyebrow. "...I ain't sayin' they shoulda shot you, Flint, but at what point did it seem like a _good_ idea to start throwin' snowballs at police officers in the first place? You're lucky you didn't get arrested for that!"

Flint cowered a bit. "Well, I-I...I did it with some neighbor's house at Swallow Falls once, on that day it rained ice cream, and they didn't get mad or anything..."

Tim waved his hands in front of him. "Wait a minute, wait a minute...you're tellin' me that you broke into some random stranger's house in Swallow Falls for a snowball fight?!"

Flint winced at his Dad's yelling. "I didn't know that that wasn't ok, Dad. I thought we were just having fun..."

Tim sighed. "I don't believe this. How could a full-grown man as smart and talented as you are have such terrible judgement?! Where's your common sense, son?! You should know better!"

The doctor glanced up from a set of small, white computer monitors on the other side of the room. "I wouldn't be too hard on him, Mr. Lockwood."

She then approached Tim with a five MRI photos of a Flint's brain. In each photo, the bone and organ structure of Flint's cranium were shown in black-and-white, and there were small patches of pixelated, saturated colors scattered throughout different areas of his brain, similar to how one would view a weather doppler radar.

"I did a brain scan for any potential head trauma during the shot, and according to his brain structure and neurological activity, in addition to the behavior you've just described, I think it's fair to say that your son, Flint Lockwood...has Asperger Syndrome."

Everybody's eyes nearly popped out of their skulls, including Tim's and Manny's. Flint covered his behind with both hands.

Tim was the first to react. "Uhhh...say that again?"

"I said Flint Lockwood has Asperger Syndrome."

Flint looked down at his bottom in concern. "Huh?!"

Brent covered his mouth, trying hard to suppress his laughter, but everyone scared him into shutting up with glares that read, "Don't you dare."

Earl shook his head to regain his bearings. "So wait, what does this have to do with burgers?"

Manny responded in his naturally-calm voice. "It has nothing to do with cheeseburgers, Earl. Asperger Syndrome is a mental disorder that Flint Lockwood was born with."

The black physician explained herself further. "You see, Flint, you weren't born with the social skills that come naturally to everyone else, so when you try to make friends or socialize with others, a lot of what seems normal to us can seem very strange to you. Subtle social cues and behaviors like sarcasm, body language, figures of speech, and understanding jokes can be completely foreign to you, like it's a whole new language you have to learn. Having Asperger Syndrome is like...as if you've crash-landed on an alien planet. The residents around you have a completely different way of thinking and behaving than how you're used to, so you have to try to understand these people in order to make friends and fit in."

The doctor paused. "Do you see what I'm trying to say?"

Flint shook his head to snap out of his stun. "…Y-Yeah, I..I think so. So…I've had trouble understanding people all my life because I wasn't born with the parts of my brain that would've helped me do that?"

"Basically. It's not that you've got an actual piece of your brain missing. It's just that your mind is wired differently to be better at certain skills than others. But the _good_ news is that Aspergers also makes you incredibly talented in a specific subject. There are plenty of Aspies who become real geniuses in their favorite skills, such as math, music, art, or in your case, Flint, inventing. Aspies love their talents so much that they can excel higher than anyone could imagine, and you've accomplished so much with your special talents…"

Tim stumbled over his speech for a bit. "H-How did...How did we not know this sooner? Not one doctor, teacher or counselor ever even mentioned anything like that to me, my wife, or my son when he was a kid!"

"I wish I knew myself, Mr. Lockwood. In the rest of the states, Aspergers was made an official diagnosis around the mid 90s, but apparently, the doctors and teachers in Swallow Falls never stayed up to date with the medical world, so they were always left in the dark about new conditions like Aspergers."

"And by the mid 90s, Flint was in high school."

The doctor frowned. "That must've been tough."

"Well, he did get into college and graduate, so he couldn't have been that bad."

The doctor smiled at Flint. "That's good. Seems to me you may have risen above some of the social problems you had growin' up, Flint."

Then Flint started to recall events in his more recent past that rendered the doctor's point null and void.

_"You seriously spend a lot of time alone."_

_"I was wondering if you'd like to go on a da-da-a-activity, with me, tomorrow…"_

_"SNOWBALL!"_

_"Can you keep a secret?" "NO."_

_"All the kids used to taunt me with this lame song." "Hee hee hee…go on."_

Flint shook his head. "...No. Even during the whole food storm and everything, I've still had trouble understanding how to interact with people. And since I've been doing it all my life...now I don't blame the town for not liking me all that time..."

The doctor put a gentle hand on Flint's shoulder and gave him a warm smile. "It's not your fault, Flint. You had no idea, _nobody_ in Swallow Falls did! And besides, look at how far you've come! Your food weather _was_ wonderful before it went wrong, and even then, you saved the world from Chester V and made those amazing food animals! You have an amazing gift for inventing! The social problems can easily be fixed. You just need some therapy and skills training to help you get better at making friends."

Flint stared up at the doctor, half-willing to believe her and the other half still unsure.

Then the doctor handed Tim a business card. "Call me if you want to schedule another appointment with me sometime. I can introduce you to some counselors I know personally that'd be more than happy to work with Flint in Swallow Falls."

Tim forced a smile. "Thank you so much for all your help, Doctor, uhh…"

"Nancy."

"Right, Dr. Nancy. I'll come back to pick up my son the day after tomorrow so he won't hafta leave late at night."

Everyone turned back to Flint and gave him their warm hugs.

Tim. "You take care, Flint. I love you so much..."

"Me too," Sam said, with a kiss on the forehead, "I'll come visit you tomorrow."

Brent nearly crushed Flint with a bear hug. "I miss you already, man!"

Earl pried Brent out of Flint's arms. "Hey hey, easy, Brent! Don't crush the poor guy in half!"

He and Manny then gave him gentler hugs. "You take care of yourself, Flint."

"Until we meet again, _mi amigo_..."

Flint smiled sadly as he watched his friends leave. "Tell Steve and Barb I'm gonna be ok, ok?"

"Ok!"

As soon as everyone was gone, Flint laid back down on his bed with a sleepy frown. Doctor Nancy approached him with a couple of colored pills and a plastic cup of water. "Here, take these. It'll help with the pain."

"Thanks."

The doctor smiled as Flint gulped down his medicine. "Don't be too hard on yourself, Flint. Think about it this way. You've been wondering all your life why you were acting so strange, but since nobody could figure out why, they probably just assumed you were just being rude or dumb or something. But now you know there's a legitimate reason behind your social problems; you're not genuinely rude or incompetent."

Nancy took the empty cup over to a trash can by the door. "And now that you know the problem, you can finally make the right steps toward finding a solution."

Flint turned away from Nancy, his eyes suddenly wide again. He then whispered in a solemn voice, "Yes...yes I can..."


	5. Fear of the Unknown

One upside with being shot in the hip, sent to the hospital, and diagnosed with Asperger Syndrome all in one day was that it gave one plenty of time to think, and certainly a lot to think _about_. How could he progress forward with such a stressful situation? How might this affect the adoring public he had just recently won over? And, probably the answer Flint begged for the most, what would this mean for himself and his loved ones? How differently would they have to start treating him now that they knew he apparently has special needs? How differently would _he_ have to start acting? He'd been taught his whole life that he was wonderful the way he was, but if his condition caused him to do things like spawn a food storm, nearly wipe out an ecosystem of living food, and now nearly get himself killed over a snowball fight, who knew what else he was capable of causing?

The troubled inventor spent the next day in his hospital bed, mostly staring off into space, lost in thought. Tim stopped by to visit early in the afternoon, and played a few rounds of Go Fish with his son. Sam and Brent came later in the evening. They brought him six chocolate cupcakes and a bouquet of colored daisies, and watched a doumentary about astronomy on a TV. Flint even threw a cupcake at the screen when a commercial about Chester V's Food Bars appeared. Spending time with his loved ones was definitely an effective way for Flint to forget about his troubles for a while, and focus on cheering himself up during these rather difficult times. He felt less depressed about enduring a boring, painful day if his family was still here to comfort him through it.

The next morning, while Flint ate a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs and orange juice in bed, his cell phone started vibrating, and the envelope icon was blinking: he'd gotten some email. He pressed against the blue screen to open up the file. The first thing that appeared was an icon of the official United States seal!

Flint gasped. "I got an _email _from the President?!"

Flint read the message with wide, darting eyes.

_Mr. Lockwood,_

As you can imagine, the news of the security guard shooting at the National Mall has caught my attention, and I wish to share my brief, yet sincere condolences to you regarding the traumatic incident. While I personally do not believe that you are capable of intentionally causing random acts of violence, as a man of the law, I strongly advise you to heed my warning. Your behavior in the Capitol will have a significant impact on public relations in this country. If any more incidents such as the shooting occur during your visit, your upcoming appearance with the NFS will be canceled, your reward revoked, and potential legal challenges will come your way.

Proceed with caution, under penalty of law.

UNITED STATES PRESIDENT WILLIAM OSWALD BAINE

The last sentence made Flint Lockwood swallow his eggs hard.

At that moment, he saw Sam through the tiny glass window on his bedroom door, and frantically turned off his cell phone, smiling sheepishly. "C-Come in!"

Sam, Tim, Brent, Manny and Earl all made their way inside the room, eager to see if their friend was all right without crowding over him.

"Hey Flint." Sam said with a smile. "You feelin' any better?"

Flint tried to mask his nervousness again. "Yeah, yeah sure."

Tim frowned in concern. "Hey, son, if ya still wanna go home, we can check outta the hotel room today, and see if the Pickles can bring our boat over to New York."

Flint frowned back. "Well, now I'm not so sure. I mean, don't get me wrong, I _do_ want the expansion of Sparkswood to happen. I'd love to be able to share our ideas with everyone in the world, but I dunno what everyone will think of me now that I know I have...well, you know."

Brent scratched his head in confusion. "Uh, no, I don't know."

Sam smiled and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Flint, Asperger Syndrome-"

Brent suppressed another chuckle, but Earl sneered at him so hard, he scared Brent into covering his own lips with a piece of duct tape.

Sam ignored Brent's insensitivity. "Asperger's is more common than you think. I'm sure the President will understand if you just explain it to him."

"But those guards won't let us anywhere near him. One of them looked at the snowball I threw, and thought it was a bomb! For all I know, they could do something like-like think my hair is really a dangerous creature that's on my head or something."

Tim tried to make light of the situation. "I did always tell ya you could use a comb."

Sam continued. "Flint, that guard was the one who did something wrong, not you. Ok, granted, you weren't supposed to throw that snowball in the first place, but it was nothing worth _shooting_ you over."

Flint looked down at his bandaged hip. "I know, he definitely shouldn't have done that, but if any of them mistook _you_ guys for a threat, I'd never forgive myself. I'd rather take a bullet than see you guys go through the same thing."

"Awww." Sam gave Flint another hug, and Tim, Earl, Manny and Brent joined in.

Brent sniffled. "Yer gonna make me cry!"

"Includin' _this_ man." Earl added.

After a moment, everyone let go, and Flint looked back up, smiling. "Thanks guys. You deserve just as much a chance to be honored as heroes as I do. Sam, I do wanna believe that we might be able to talk to the President and convince him we're not a threat, but until we know for sure we can be safe, I think all of us should keep a distance from the White House for a while. We still have five more days before the big speech, so we still got time to work things out. But until we know for certain that we won't be mistaken for another threat, we shouldn't take anymore chances stirring up the guards."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Besides," Tim responded, "You should give yourself more time to rest and recover from your injury anyway."

Manny put a gentle hand on Flint's left arm. "I will provide whatever medicine and first aid you may need to heal your wound in the hotel."

Brent held up his cellphone. "And I can see if my boss can cut us some sweet deals on Chick 'N' Sushi takeout!"

Earl flexed his buff chest. "And you can be sure my danger-sensin' chest hairs will NEVER lie down on the job. I've got your back 24/7!"

Flint's smile grew, near tears of joy. "You guys are the best."

While the gang helped Flint take his belongings out of the room, he glanced down at his bandaged hip as he was getting his old pants back on. He then muttered to himself, "I promise...I won't let anything like this ever happen to you guys, _ever_."

Brent looked up. "You say somethin', Flint?"

"Uh, I-I said..." He then held out his torn, wedgie-proof underwear. "It'll take forever to fix my wedgie proof undies."

Brent held the rubber, blue briefs with a heavy frown. "Aw man. I always hate it when my favorite pair of briefs get ruined."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "But I thought you always wore diapers-"

But Earl cut her off. "Trust me, Sam. You _don't_ wanna know..."

-

Flint waited until everyone was sound asleep in the Ritzy Inn DC hotel bedrooms. At 12:14 AM, he tiptoed toward the bathroom, sat into the empty bathtub, and muted his cell phone before pressing the speed dial for Sparkswood...

The Pickles and Berries were scattered all around the main laboratory above Flint's house, sound asleep on the computers, floor, swivel chairs, and table. They were all holding plastic cups and mugs in their leafy hands while at least a dozen empty liters of Purple Coke lay on the floor, as if they'd just spent the night roaring drunk. Thick webs of silly string strung across the walls and computers. The Sour Pickle had passed out on top of the remote to a flat-screen TV, currently playing the "Gushy Stuff Soap Opera" special.

Barry was using one of Flint's "Science is Awesome" shirts as a sleeping bag next to the phone. When it started ringing its "Flint You Have a Call" ringtone, Barry jumped and shrieked in alarm, and quickly held the phone with his tiny leaves. Surprisingly enough, none of the other Foodimals even stirred.

"En woo?"

Flint whispered into the receiver. "Barry, it's me, Flint."

Barry's face lit up. "En woo! En woo!"

"Shh! Barry, quiet! Everyone else is asleep. Now listen, I need you to use the Grocery Deliverator to bring me a really,_ reeeally_ important invention I have in the lab..."

Flint whispered into Barry's ear. The little strawberry turned around, and spotted the Brain Transmogrifier still sitting on the table, now covered in Silly String.

Earl was trudging half-asleep toward bathroom with a "Beef and Cake" male model magazine in his hand, wearing a white t-shirt, red-striped boxers, and pink bunny slippers. He was about to knock on the door when he heard the loud portal open up on the other side. Earl didn't see what was going on, but he pressed his ear against the door.

Barry stuck his head out on the other side, wearing the Brain Transmogrifier on his head and whispered, "Ta daaaa..."

Flint whispered anxiously. "Good boy. Now go, before someone sees you!"

"H'ok!"

After the portal zipped shut, Flint tried to mask his cover by flushing the toilet. Earl blinked twice in confusion, and then shook his head to snap out of his confusion, muttering, "Ya know what? I don't even wanna know..."

Earl walked out of the hotel room to do his business elsewhere. As soon as the coast was clear, Flint raced down the opposite end of the hallway with his Brain Transmogrifier.

Flint glanced around the outside of the main entrance of the hotel lobby. There were security cameras hooked up on the corners of the ceilings throughout the ceilings of the front and back doors, and down each indoor hallway. The only other secure place he could think of where he could do his experiment was, again, the bathroom, so he rushed to the nearest, single-toilet men's room he could find, and locked the door tight.

Flint quickly inserted a pair of thick D batteries into a plastic slot in the back of the helmet. "Initiating power source."

He then pulled out an MRI photograph of a human brain, and repeatedly glanced back and forth between the image and the helmet as he adjusted the tiny knobs on both sides. "Calibrating settings for desired brain structure."

With the greatest of care, Flint placed the helmet on his head and buckled the strap under his chin. "Positioning the device at just the right angle..."

Once the helmet was fully in place, Flint stood in front of the bathroom mirror, taking several deep breaths to try to calm himself. He almost couldn't believe that he was doing this. After all that he'd accomplished with his special brain, he was now about to change it entirely. He stared up at his forehead with a forlorn frown, and gently rubbed his left temple.

"I'm really sorry, Brain, old buddy. You've done a lot of good for me all these years, but I can't take any chances with keeping my friends safe. I love inventing, but not if it comes at the expense of the people I love."

Flint reached for the power knob with a trembling hand. "All right...here we go..."

With one last deep breath, he turned the knob to "On."

A wave of electricity ran across Flint's body as all the lights and the silent siren on his helmet flashed on. The sound of beeping binary code sounded off, and colored, pixelated bars ran up and down the meters above the smaller knobs. Flint fell to his knees, wincing and groaning in pain, clutching onto his head, and gritting his teeth as his pupils repeatedly shrank and grew every half second.

After about ten seconds of this, the transmogrification was complete. The helmet powered down, and let out the "DING!" of an oven's alarm bell. For a moment or so, Flint just stared off into space, trying to clear up his blurred vision and regain his bearings. His pupils continued to grow in and out as his vision adjusted, until, finally, he violently shook his head, and took the helmet off.

"Wow, what a ride."

Flint glanced at his reflection in the mirror. The first thing he noticed was his usually-messy head of hair. "Ugh! Dad was right; I need a comb big time."

As soon as Flint crept back into the hotel room, he was immediately grabbed by Earl's beefy arms!

The Officer's voice was whisper-quiet, but still stern and alert. "Aha! Ooh, sorry Flint Lockwood. My chest hairs have been tinglin' like crazy. I was worried you might be in some sorta danger."

Flint smiled sheepishly and whispered back. "Relax, Earl, I'm just fine. Just wanted to tweak up one of my inventions without waking anybody up."

"Fair enough." Earl said with a wide yawn. "Hopefully my chest will calm down long enough to get me some sleep."

Flint muttered back. "Hopefully..."

As he and Earl made their way back to their beds, Flint hid his Brain-Transmogrifier in his backpack, and went back under the covers without a peep. He was almost afraid to try sleeping with his newly-transformed mind, but he knew that he'd be worse off without it, so he finally drifted off, anxious to see what would await him the next morning...


	6. Changes

Flint was quick to observe every element of his body as soon as he woke up the next morning. He was still in his hotel room; his body didn't look any different; his head didn't feel any different. Then again, trying to judge his condition based on any physical appearances was almost pointless. There was no doubt that Flint had changed his brain given the success of his invention. The real question was how much had he changed on the _inside?_

One look at the bathroom mirror in his hotel room, and Flint cringed at his usually-tangled hair, but after a brief shower and a wide-toothed comb, it was smoothed down and straightened out, not a strand out of place. Instead of his lab coat or any of his "Science is Awesome" shirts, he wore a long-sleeved white blouse with a royal-blue wool sweater. The only piece of his signature look he couldn't alter was his Spray-On Shoes, namely because he couldn't fit his adhesive-covered feet into any other shoes.

Sam smiled when she and Barb walked through the door. "Hey, you're lookin' pretty handsome in that new get up!"

Flint smiled back. "Thanks! So, what's on our agenda for today?"

"Well, I dunno if we should do a lot of walking around 'cause you just came out of the hospital."

Tim looked up from reading the Washington Post for his morning paper. The front page read in bold headlines, _"National Mall Shooting Sparks Gun Control in DC."_

"The weather's a lot warmer than it was yesterday. Maybe we could go fishin' by the park, Skipper? I know ya love that."

"Well, I don't wanna dictate the entire trip. What do you guys wanna do?"

Barb's face beamed. "Ooh, ooh, I know, I know!"

-

The next several outings over the next few days went much smoother for Flint and his loved ones.

Later that day, everyone was relaxing in a spa and beauty salon. Sam and Barb got manicures and pedicures on elongated pink chairs. Earl got a hearty massage on his back while lying on his stomach on a cushion table. Brent and Manny relaxed in the hot tub while receiving mud facials with cucumbers in their eyes. Tim got both ends of his mustache and unibrow curled tight, resembling the old-fashioned gentleman-like mustaches. While they looked rather dainty and charming, the sight made Tim's eyes pop out underneath. Flint got his hair trimmed about two inches, and smoothed it even more with hair gel and hairspray; now his hair was completely rigid, not budging an inch even as he walked. Steve just ate the cucumbers on Manny and Brent's faces.

At another point, the gang dined in an indoor restaurant called "Fish N Chips," a rustic seafood bistro that had the sort of decor of fish trophies, fishing gear, and sea shanties throughout the intercom that made Tim feel very much at home. A waiter dressed in a sailor's suit served everyone their food, including Sardines on a Spit served for both Tim and Flint. While Tim savored each bite of the smoked fish, Flint cringed as he swallowed each bite while still forcing a smile on his face. As everyone else shared one round table indoors, Steve and Barb kept themselves preoccupied on a table in the upstairs balcony. Barb smiled while the little Capuchin simply wore the roasted salmon on his head like a hat.

Between outings, Flint wrote and practiced his upcoming speech back in the hotel, whenever he and Steve had the room to themselves or when there was no one in the courtyard. However, thanks to his transmogrified brain, Flint found himself less and less enthusiastic about the event by the day. He definitely felt the immense pressure of having to make a proper presentation in front of the President, and by extension, the entire viewing world. He just didn't feel that boundless passion that made him cherish every second of inventing, that made it one of his biggest sources of happiness. No longer did he have any ambition or excitement to achieve breakthroughs in the name of science, which begged a question in Flint's mind that, if answered soon, would solve all of Flint's problems in an instant. Which was more meaningful: having a healthy mind with an ordinary lifestyle, or a dysfunctional mind with a life that was extraordinary?

Finally, one morning, everyone in the hotel had a rather unexpected awakening from a very excited Brent. "Happy Halloween, guys!"

Brent, dressed in his chicken suit, slapped on some Halloween accessories for each of his roommates as they woke up in alarm. A Frankenstein wig and neck bolts for Tim, a zombie mask for Manny, a black cape and vampire fangs for Earl, and a werewolf body suit for Flint, complete with ears and a tail.

Flint chuckled a bit. "I appreciate the gesture, Brent, but aren't we a little old for trick-or-treating?"

"Maybe, but we're never too old to PARRRR-TAY! We should totally take advantage of a Halloween vacation while we're still here!"

"But I have my big speech to present tomorrow. I can't stay up all night partying."

"No sweat, broheim! We can party somewhere else, and you can crash in here if ya wanna go to bed early."

Earl spit out his plastic fangs. "As long as we don't actually scare anybody wearin' these costumes, I'm in."

Flint turned around and nearly ran into Sam, wearing a purple witches hat.

Flint smirked. "Lemmie guess. Brent?"

"Yeah." Sam giggled, gently taking her hat off. "Anyway, in the spirit of Halloween, and as part of our plan to lay low until your big day tomorrow, I got a special treat for ya today!"

-

Soon, Sam was spreading her arms out in front of the main entrance to the Marian Koshland Science Museum. "TA-DAAAA!"

She smiled in anticipation, her fists clenched up tight in front of her chest. "So, whaddya think? Do you LOVE it?!"

Flint grinned to the left side of his face. "...Nice choice. Looking forward to checkin' it out."

Sam's smile dropped and her eyes popped. A trip to such a prestigious science museum should've sent her boyfriend jumping and cheering all over the place!

His enthusiasm only partially grew from there. Despite all the immense exhibits, Flint didn't show any hint of excitement or passion, only casual enjoyment; he "liked" the science museum, but he didn't "love" it.

For instance, there was an entire wing in the museum devoted to the science behind Global Warming. It was complete with a gallery of charts such as the rise in Co2 in the Ozone over the last fifty years, the rise in sea levels, the biggest sources of man-made CO2, and other statistics that made Sam roll her eyes.

"I hate it when the news keeps pressing absurd data like this. Any self-respected scientist knows that the 94.521% percent of the CO2 comes from _natural_ resources, not man-made. Am I right?"

Flint shrugged his shoulders. "Heck if I knew."

Sam smirked. "What are you talking about? Last week, you could identify all the layers in the atmosphere just by looking through a space telescope."

Flint gave a nervous smile and chuckle. "Must've slipped my mind..."

At another point, the two stopped by a glass case where a clean slice of a Cypress tree was cut into a round disk, revealing the dozens of tiny wooden rings that formed from the radius outward.

"How many rings do you think there are in that thing?"

Flint skimmed the piece of wood, but then simply shrugged his shoulders again. "I dunno, a hundred maybe?"

Sam squinted hard for a moment and scrolled her finger down the glass. "Let's see...actually, it's...891.45, if you count the partial rings cut off around the base."

Flint chuckled. "You got a calculator in your head or somethin'?"

Sam frowned. "No, I just...counted."

"Well, you're one smart cookie."

"Uh...thanks?"

Sam followed Flint of the exhibit with mixed feelings, looking up at him with concern.

"Flint...is everything ok?"

"Of course it is, Sam. Why wouldn't it be?"

"It's just, well, something about your behavior seems kinda off, lately. You're still fun to be around, and it's great that you've been so open to other people's interests, but you act like you've decided not to like science or inventing anymore."

Flint's smile dropped. "Sam, everything I've been doing, I do it to protect you and my Dad and everyone else. I couldn't stand seeing you guys getting mistaken for a threat like I was."

"That doesn't mean you should be too scared to love inventing-"

_Flint, you have a call, Flint, you have a call!_

Flint took a quick look at the caller ID on his phone: the Presidential Seal again. With wide eyes, he put one hand on the receiver and whispered. "I think it's the President again, Sam. I'll be right back."

"Oh go ahead..."

Flint hid into a separate room containing a spiral staircase to the other floors of the museum, the kind that were used if the elevator was broken or as an emergency exit. But Sam couldn't let Flint continue to hide his true feelings from her. While Flint wasn't looking, Sam sat on the next level of stairs directly above where he sat in the same corridor, and listened intently to the middle-aged, Caucasian man speaking to him on the phone.

"H-Hello?"

"Flint Lockwood? This is President Baine."

Flint was so flustered, he could hardly speak. "M-M-Mr. P-President, I-I-"

"Please stay calm, Mr. Lockwood. This is very important and I don't have much time."

"Y-Y-Yessir."

"Are you still willing to present before the White House tomorrow?"

Flint tried to sound as confident as he could; he'd gotten better at keeping secrets since he changed his brain. "Oh of course. It's all I ever think about, sir."

The President's voice grew more stern as he spoke. "Good. I hope you realize how much is at stake by me putting so much trust in you. I can't afford anymore mishaps with your inventions. Our country is still on a fragile structural and economic recovery since the worldwide cleanup, and another calamity similar to the food storm could bring it to complete destruction altogether. Your efforts against the food weather and Chester V have convinced my administration not to press charges on you for past damage, but should you cause more destruction on our country, we can no longer trust you with the safety of our people, and there _will_ be dire consequences against you. The safety and well-being of this nation is just as much in my hands as it is in yours. So, I ask you, as Leader of the Free World, can I trust you to not cause anymore chaos of any sort while you're still here?"_  
_  
At first, Flint was dead silent, thinking hard about what to say while he was feeling so anxious. But after a moment, he swallowed hard and answered timidly. "Y-Y-Yes sir."

"Thank you. I have been extremely forgiving of all that has happened thus far. I sincerely hope you don't make me change my mind. I must go now. Goodbye, Mr. Lockwood."

With that, the President hung up.

Flint's mind was filled to the brim with anxiety. He sat there on the steps, staring off into space, shaking in his adhesive shoes, and taking heavy deep breaths. He was now under more stress than ever before. The pressure from the President, coupled with the distress from changing his brain and trying to keep it a secret from his loved ones, was all too much for even a neurotypical brain like his.

Sam watched his little panic attack from the nearby stair railing. "Flint, are you ok? What'd he say?"

"H-He said I uh...I-I...I gotta go! I'll explain later, I promise!"

Flint fled down the stairs with haste toward the back exit of the museum, and then down the sidewalk that lead to the hotel. Sam raced after him, but he never once stopped or looked back, as if he was running away from _her _as well!

"Flint, wait! Stop! Come back! Please!"

Of course, a commotion like this didn't go unnoticed by the public's eyes. At least a dozen people stopped and stared at Sam chasing Flint down two blocks. The extra attention only made Flint run faster; after trying so hard to avoid making another scene, he had caused one yet _again, _and after just promising the Commander-in-Chief that he wouldn't.__

As Sam continued chasing her distraught boyfriend, a foreboding array of grey storm-clouds shrouded over the evening sky...


	7. Danger and Desolation

Wasting no time, Flint rushed right into the hotel room, past Earl, Brent, Tim, Manny and Steve, who were rather surprised by his hasty entrance.

"Hey, son, how was yer trip with Sam?"

"No time to explain, Dad!"

He quickly pulled the Brain-Transmogrifier out of his backpack, and raced back out the door again. "Just don't tell Sam where I am!"

As soon as Flint had left, Earl clutched onto his chest. "Ngh! It's that burnin' feelin' again!"

Seconds later, Sam opened the door, completely out of breath. "Has anyone...seen...Flint?"

Everyone pointed and answered in unison. "He went that way!"

"Thank you!"

Sam raced off with what little breath she had, but Tim and the others followed suit, clearly seeing that something was wrong.

Flint knelt down in the open grass courtyard at the back of the hotel, changing the batteries and turning the tiny knobs on his helmet with haste. Sam knelt beside him while the others watched from about fifteen feet away on the back patio.

"Flint, please, tell me what's going on!"

"I'm really sorry, Sam. You're right, my behavior _has_ been off lately, but once I configure this Brain Transmogrifier, I'll be my better self in no time!"

"Brain Transmogri-_what?!"_

Steve jumped at the thunder and lightening sparking in the dark sky. "Danger! Danger!"

Earl nodded. "Steve's actually bein' smart fer once! Flint, get outta there!"

"Just a second, Earl!" Then Flint turned back to Sam. "I changed my brain to get rid of my Asperger Syndrome to try to make myself normal, but after the President called me, I decided I'm not gonna take any chances, and make sure that disorder stays out of my brain for _good!"_

"Wait a minute, wait a minute! You actually changed your-?!"

ZAP! A bolt of lightening struck down on Flint and his helmet!

_"AAAAHHH!" _

_"FLINT!"_

_"DANGERRRRR!"_

Everyone watched in horror as Flint Lockwood sat there on all fours, screaming in pain, and the thousands of volts electrocuting him while they powered up the helmet. The siren and lights repeatedly flashed on and off, and the knobs were spinning around all by themselves!

Flint could feel his entire body undergo an excruciating transformation. The right side of his brain inflated from inside his head, causing his scalp to inflate along with it, with much of his hair still attached onto the lump. His smoothed-down mop had burst back into tangles that were in three times as much disarray as his signature style. Thick, red blood veins had swollen large enough to become visible from underneath his skin, lining across Flint's forehead. His screaming turned into a loud groaning with a very low-pitched tone of voice. His bloodshot eyes were now completely coated with red. One pupil was three times its normal size, and the other three times as small.

Finally, the Brain Transmogrifier burst into a million pieces, and its victim let out a blood-curdling…

_MOOOOOAAAANNN!_

Within that instant, all was quiet. Sam and the others stood there with wide eyes, waiting anxiously for a reaction from their tormented friend.  
Flint kept kneeling there on all fours, heaving raspy breaths as he tried to regain his bearings. His distorted eyes blurred his vision, and he felt his head spinning from vertigo. He then stared up at Sam with a glazed look in his eyes. She hadn't budged once since the transformation, and was now just lowering her hands from her dropped mouth, her voice quivering with fear.

"...Oh...O-Oh my God..."

Sam hesitated at first, then slowly reached her right hand toward Flint's head. "N-N-Nice, Flint...easy, Flint?"

But before Sam could touch him, Flint took a few steps back on four legs, whimpering and cowering with fear. Sam tried to approach him, but he kept backing away the closer she got.

"No no no no! I-It's ok, c'mon. I'm not gonna hurtcha..."

Flint shook his head in fear. As he and Sam got farther away, Earl and Tim raced over to them, followed by Manny, Brent and Steve.

"Flint, Sam, wait up!" Earl shouted

"Son, wait! Where are ya goin'?!" Tim added.

Flint noticed the others rushing toward him, but because of his distorted vision, they looked more like unidentifiable figures that one would see in a fun house mirror! Frightened at the sight, Flint tried to run away on all fours toward the front lawn of the hotel.  
At that moment, two Caucasian security guards aimed their pistols at him!

"YOU THERE, FREEZE!" One shouted.

A mere glance at their guns, and Flint's mismatched pupils went wide. Sam and the others were quick to block the guards, shouting "NO NO! DON'T SHOOT HIM!"

Sam made one lower his weapon. "Sir, whatever you do, you _can't_ hurt him!"

Earl nodded and pointed behind him. "She's right! That's Flint Lockwood over there, and we gotta change him back to nor-"

But a quick turn around, and everyone saw that Flint had completely disappeared!

Earl darted his head every which way. "Oh no, where'd he go?!"

Sam gasped. "Officers, Flint Lockwood accidentally changed his brain using one of his inventions! We need you to help us find him so we can change him back, but please, DON'T hurt him! We need him back here alive!"

"I'm very sorry about Flint's predicament, miss," one guard responded, "But we'll do whatever we have to to keep everybody safe..."

Both headed toward their police car, still holding their weapons.

Tim's voice shook with desperation. "P-Please, officers, just-just bring him back safely! Don't hurt him; he's my son!"

Earl added. "I agree! As a man of the law myself, I am tellin' you, do NOT arrest Flint Lockwood-!"

"We'll do what we have to, sirs!" The guard shouted. He was not about the budge from the mission at hand. "And we'll notify every officer in the district..."

The guards drove off in their police car with flashing sirens.

Tim rushed toward his rental car, a beige Studebaker, in panic. "Everybody get in! We gotta find Flint before he gets hurt!"

Earl saluted. "I'll patrol the streets in case he's hidin' off-road!"

Manny took the driver's seat while Sam sat in the back, holding the remains of the Brain-Transmogrifier.

Tim stared at the machine with a frightened brow. "What the heck _was_ that thing?"

Sam stared at the pieces of the helmet with a heartbroken expression. "Flint used it to change his brain so that he wouldn't have Asperger Syndrome anymore..."

Tim stumbled over his words with an almost equal amount of heartache. "What? B-B-But, w-why?"

"I dunno, but as soon as we find him, we're gonna change him back. I promise."

Sam didn't look back at Tim as she spoke. She just stared off into the distance for a moment or so, until she buried her face in her hands, sobbing. Tim gently stroked her back as she wept.

Meanwhile, Flint was hiding in a small park near some local suburbs, just crawling out of a bush and scratching the leaves out of his hair with his claw-like fingernails. He also started to itch in his blue, wool sweater, but rather than unbuttoning it, he tore it off his torso with his bare hands, accidentally leaving holes and claw marks on his blouse in the process. Now his formal attire had been reduced to white, long-sleeved rags.

Flint observed his environment around him with anxiety and confusion. His vision had cleared up to a much smaller amount of blur and distortion, but he didn't recognize this place at all, let alone any of the trick-or-treaters and their parents walking around the houses nearby. At least he saw them as people now instead of fun-house-mirror blobs. He approached each house with a face that was begging for help, still moaning in place of words, but everywhere he went, the reactions were virtually all the same. The neighbors either rushed inside and locked their doors, or simply ran down the street screaming in panic.

A few tried to fight him off, such as a middle-aged man tossing books and shoes at him from the front porch.

"Get the hell off my property!"

Or, at another point, Flint approached an African-American woman walking on the sidewalk with her daughter, but she sprayed his face with mace!

"Get away from my child, you freak 'o nature!"

Flint screamed in pain from the burning substance, and used a nearby sprinkler to wash it off his eyes before desperately fleeing down the streets again. Everyone in the block called 911 on their phones as soon as he was gone.

The neighbors had scared Monster Flint off into the outskirts of the suburbs. He rushed past some vacant lots and deconstruction ruins, where houses were either destroyed or never finished, until he reached an abandoned park with a dilapidated playground that was covered in rust, spider webs, and dotted with bees nests, as if no one had taken care of it in ages. There was no one around him but the company of a single street lamp that stood twenty feet from the playground, where the paved road ended and the acres of grass and weeds began. Flint was glad that there was nobody around to hurt him anymore, but he didn't find a desolate park any less disconcerting, and certainly not the least bit comforting.

As the deformed inventor walked warily around the empty parking space, where the street light stood, he stopped and noticed his reflection on the shards of a shattered, green wine bottle. He backed away at first, as if he didn't recognize himself, but then he looked closer, squinting down at the glass. He noticed the reflection of his hand as he touched his misshapen head and face; this was his image all right. And not just his mirror image, but clear visage of his true form, how ugly and frightening he looked. Flint didn't understand why he was like this; he didn't even remember the Brain-Transmogrifier! And yet, despite his most recent memories failing him, he had a feeling that he wasn't supposed to be like this, that there was a time when he used to be much more communicative, coordinated, mentally stable, and, most of all, much more loved, far longer ago than he could remember at the moment.

Desolate, scared, confused, and in despair, the monstrous Flint Lockwood sat on the concrete bumper of the parking space, wrapped his arms around his body, and broke down crying with heavy, deep sobbing. After all this time of trying to earn more friends, he was now more isolated from the world than ever.


	8. It's our turn to protect him!

The Remote-Control TV displayed a Hispanic news anchorwoman sitting at her grey desk. Next to her was a small screen showing video footage of Monster Flint wandering around the suburbs.

"Over the last hour, there have been numerous reports from our nation's capitol of a fearsome monster-like man going on a rampage across the suburbia a mere two miles from the White House."

The video cut to footage of Flint getting electrocuted and transformed with the Brain-Transmogrifier.

"This creature has been recognized as the famous inventor, Flint Lockwood, who had been apparently using this strange helmet device to rewire his brain in order to adjust his behavior. Clearly, something went horribly wrong."

One of the Ritzy Inn security guards talked into a reporter's mic at the hotel lobby. "It was like some sorta curse from God! This big bolt of lightening struck down on him, and all of a sudden, he just wasn't human anymore!"

Then it cut to the woman who sprayed him with mace. "He was waltzin' right up to my baby girl like she was a scrap o' meat! Never leave home without your peppa spray, ladies."

Back to the anchorwoman. "All 911 services in the DC area have been called by citizens claiming to have seen Lockwood in their neighborhood, and now, the police are searching down every street in the district for any trace of the mad scientist. In Washington DC, Raquel Montoya, National News Network."

Virtually everyone in Swallow Falls heard that report. They were all standing in a crowd at the town square, watching and listening to the sentient TV, and started to chime their responses.

Joe Towne was first. "Flint Lockwood's in trouble!"

The "Macaroni" guy, with the pasta still on his head. "They're gonna kill him!"

Regina Devereaux. "He's not a real monster!"

Cal. "Yeah! His _invention_ went crazy, not him!"

The crowd all shouted in agreement.

A sixteen year old blonde spoke up. "We gotta, like, totally do somethin', you know!"

Then a bald, middle aged male. "I say we go up there and save him ourselves!"

A Hispanic woman. "Now how are we supposed to do that? He's all the way in Washington DC!"

Just then, Barry tugged on Joe's pant leg. "What is it, little feller?"

Barry pointed toward the Foodimal Jungle. About fifty feet away, a crowd Watermelephants, Lemmins, Leeks, Meatbalruses, Buffaloafs, Bananostriches, the Cheespider, and even Tacodile Supreme, all lined up in a row and shouted,

"EN WOO! EN WOO!"

Even the Ratbirds flew up above them. "EN WOO!"

Joe smiled, and stood up on the podium on stage. "Everybody, listen! Now, I may be just a forty-year-old redneck that doesn't know a whole lot about fightin', travel, or big government, but we all know somethin' that President Fancy-Pants over at the White House will _never_ understand; the goodness inside the _real_ Flint Lockwood! We all know he's a really a great guy, but the government'll never know that if they're runnin' around tryin' ta kill him! So we gotta do whatever we can to find Flint and help him change back to his old self!"

The Hispanic lady spoke out again, this time in a more nervous tone. "But what if the government tries to kill _us_, too?!"

"Flint's risked his life multiple times tryin' to protect _us_; now it's our turn to protect _him!_ And I think we can all agree that Flint is definitely someone worth dyin' for! So who's with me?!"

The crowd cheered unanimously in support, along with the gang of Foodimals. Joe smiled at the town with pride.

"All right, let's do this!"

While the DC Police Department armed themselves for Flint's capture, the citizens of Swallow Falls armed themselves for Flint's rescue. The cops were equipped with riot shields, pistols, clubs, cans of pepper spray, and even a dog-catcher's net! At the same time, each member of the Berry family gave a quick demonstration on how to use inventions like the Spray-On Shoes, Hair Unbalder, Grocery Deliverator, and even the Parashooters and Glide Hangers with helmets converted from solar power to lunar power. While only able-bodied citizens handled those rather precarious methods of transportation, most of the people rode on the backs of Foodimals like Watermelephants, Cucumbirdies, the Cheespider, the Tacodile, and Bananostriches.

Upon closer inspection of the footage from the newscast, Joe got a brief glimpse of the street sign where Flint was filmed: NW 28th Street, about half a mile from the Oak Hill Cemetery. He marked that spot with a red X on a geographic map of Washington DC. Minutes later, Barry warmed up the Grocery Deliverator at the base of Sparkswood Laboratories. All the citizens and their Foodimals rushed through the portal, one group at a time, and came out on the empty outskirts of the Monrose Park, roughly ten miles from any sign of civilization, let alone any of the dozens of patrolling police cars roaming the streets.

-

Meanwhile, Sam and the gang were driving down NW 28th Street, past the frightened suburbia Flint had just encountered.

Manny peered out the windows as he drove carefully past the trick-or-treaters. "Locked doors, terrified children, police patrolling the streets. Flint was definitely here all right."

Sam added. "This is where that news report said Flint was last seen. Earl, any sign yet?"

"No, nothin' yet..."

As Manny turned left to the cemetery, Earl's chest hairs started tingling again. "Wait! I'm gettin' a signal right here!"

Sam's eyes went wide when she saw where Manny parked. "By the...graveyard?"

Tim's brow curled with anxiety. "Oh dear God, please let us find my son _alive._"

Earl patrolled around the area, about fifty feet from the car. Flipping and rolling stealthily past tombstones and angel statues, Earl felt more tingling northwest of where the gang stood.

"This way..."

The "polista" lead everybody through the graveyard, past a few vacant lots of a suburban cul-de-sac, until, at last, they reached the abandoned park.

Earl cringed hard in pain and put both hands on his pecs. "Oh yeah, he's definitely here..."

"STEVE!"

The little monkey pointed toward a misshapen silhouette standing underneath the street lamp, and everyone recognized it to be...

_"FLINT!"_

Flint spun around and gasped at Sam and the others coming, but his vision had cleared up much better since the transformation, and recognized them as well as he ever had. He opened up his arms toward Sam with moaning sobs and tears running down his face.

Sam gave Flint his much-needed hug. "Oh, Flint, thank goodness we found you! What's the matter? Are you hurt? Are you sick? Did the police try to get you?"

Flint just kept crying on her shoulder, not looking up once.

"Wh-what's wrong, son?" Tim asked worriedly. "Say something, anything!"

Sam looked up at his father. "I don't think he can, Mr. Lockwood. His brain's damaged so much that he can't talk, or understand anything _we're_ saying either. He does seem to still remember us though."

A few tears trickled down Tim's face as he kissed his son's head and gently rubbed his back as well. "Oh, my boy...my poor little boy..."

Manny quickly checked on Flint's wound. "Fortunately, he has not been injured any worse since the transformation."

Sam kept stroking Flint's back, frequently kissing his head. "He's probably just scared from being hunted down by the police...and really, that's how he's been feeling this entire trip. He was scared of being out of his comfort zone for a long time in the National Mall, he got scared of being shot, scared of finding out he's had Asperger Syndrome his whole life, and, before he turned into..._this_, he told me he was scared that his Asperger's might make him do something reckless that would hurt us, like he did to himself with the snowball fight."

Brent gently rubbed Flint's shoulders with a heavy frown. "I really wish we had the old Flint back, man."

Flint looked up at Brent, and then back at Sam, staring sadly at his friends and family.

Sam gave him a sad smile in return. "Don't worry, Flint. Everything's gonna be ok, we promise."

She then gave him the bloated-cheek kiss on his head, a single tear running down her cheek.

Just then, their touching moment was spoiled. Five police cars drove up to the end of the paved road. Flint covered his ears at the loud sirens, whimpering in pain, but Sam, Tim, Earl, and Brent all stood protectively in front of him. Manny stood by everyone with his camera rolling.

Barb and Steve, being too short to offer much protection, simply hugged and comforted the inventor from behind.

"So glad you're still ok, Flint."

"Flint!"

Flint's eyes went wide; that was the first time he'd ever heard Steve say his name.

A dozen police officers, armed with riot shields and clubs, lined up twenty feet in front of the gang on the pavement. One stood behind his row of comrades, holding a megaphone.

"This is the DC Police Department! We have been ordered to arrest and detain Flint Lockwood for his monstrous rampage! Surrender him now, in the name of the law!"

Sam shouted back. "NO! We won't let you do this!"

Tim revealed his glaring eyes under his brow. "You thugs can take my son over my dead body!"

Brent added. "Yeah, what he said...except the son part, obviously, heh."

The policeman glared harder. "I'm warning you!"

"Sir," Sam cried, "Flint is too physically and mentally debilitated to be detained! We need to heal him right away, or he'll _die!_"

"We have a medical ward in our jail cell, m'am! Now stand aside!"

"Flint needs a special kind of treatment that only _we_ can give him! Keeping him prisoner will only make it worse!"

"Men, prepare to arrest them all in 3...2..."

WHAM! A thick web of cheese covered up the guards, sticking them to the ground and sinking their shields and weapons in the yellow goop. Then everybody spun around to the sound of a high-pitched,

"EN WOOOOO!"

Barry was riding on the Cheespider, leading the pack of Swallow Falls citizens and their Foodimals up the same path that Sam and the others used to find Flint as well. Flint cowered in fear, but still stared up at the Foodimals with wide eyes, as if part of him sensed something familiar about them, especially Barry.

The police officer dropped his megaphone in shock. "It's those Food Animals from back on that island! Men, get up and arrest them, too!"

One officer chimed in, his head sticking out from the pile of cheese. "Uh, sir, we're prohibited by federal law to do any harm to these food creatures."

"What?!"

"They are an extremely endangered species, and therefore have the highest level of protection under environmental regulations."

The officer groaned in frustration.

Earl smirked. "Red tape, the one thing the government can't break."

While everyone was staring up at the Foodimals, the officer with the megaphone got a clear view of the lump stretching from Flint's head.

"UGH! WHAT ON EARTH IS ON HIS HEAD?!"

Sam noticed and carefully held Flint's head by his temples. "See this? That's not just a bump on the head; that's half of Flint's brain swollen up in his skull!"

All the officers cringed and groaned in disgust; one even threw up in the cheese.

Sam continued. "And the only way to make it go away is to fix his invention back at Swallow Falls. If anybody treated Flint too roughly trying to restrain him or put him in jail, it could damage his brain to the point of killing him, and you guys don't exactly look like the gentle type."

The officer pondered for a moment. "...It's hard for me not to believe when I'm seeing it right in front of me. Very well, we'll give you a police escort back to Swallow Falls, but if we find out you're lyin', we'll make the charges even harder on you..."

"We'd be more than happy to explain everything, but right now, we need to get Flint home as soon as possible before he gets any worse."

Tim, Earl, Manny and Brent each gave Flint a gentle hug, relieved that they were no longer in imminent danger from the police.

Sam approached Joe and the Foodimals with a smile. "Joe, Barry, guys...y-you all came to save Flint?"

Joe smiled back. "Of course we did! We weren't gonna let some big shot in Washington hurt our town hero for somethin' he didn't even do."

Barry chirped back, "Ya ya! En Woo! En woo!"

Sam's eyes filled with tears of joy. "Thank you all so much..."


	9. The Welcome Home

A pair of black-suited, Caucasian agents approached the chestnut double-doors of the President's office. Their leader was sitting on his Corinthian-leather swivel chair, his back turned to the door. He gazed through the expansive window behind his ebony desk with a contemplative expression, his eyes closed and his mind lost in thought. With the moonlight shining through the window, the agents could get a clear back view of their Commander-in-Chief; a Caucasian, black-haired male in his late 30s, wearing a navy-blue suit.

"We're sorry to interrupt you, Mr. President," one spoke. "But we just got word that the DCPD has allowed Flint Lockwood to return to Swallow Falls with Sam Sparks and the rest of his family in order to cure his physical and mental deformities that resulted from his invention."

"The condition that has the country believing that he is a quote-unquote 'monster?'"

"Yes, sir."

The second guard added. "According to Ms. Sparks, Flint's condition is extremely unstable, and can only be remedied through specialized care in Sparkswood Laboratories."

"Hmm..."

"Shall I send reinforcements, sir?"

"That won't be necessary, Greggory; I will personally lead my finest marines into Swallow Falls, and see to it that Lockwood and his invention are no longer an imminent threat to our national security."

One agent's eyebrows shot up. "Sir, shouldn't you let the Navy Admiral lead his men to the island?"

"I shall accompany Admiral Ravens and his men on the journey. I was the one who invited Lockwood to our country in the first place. It's my responsibility to make sure that the American people will be safe in his hands. Now, is it possible to get the island through Air Force One?"

"I'm afraid not, sir. Swallow Falls has no official airport."

"Then have the USS Sequoia Mark II at the ready, with fifty of the Admiral's finest marines fully armed. We shall travel to Swallow Falls by yacht, and if at any time Lockwood is confirmed to be an imminent threat...we shall do whatever it takes to keep our nation safe."

Both agents saluted. "Yes sir..."

-

Once everyone gathered together by another vacant lot, Barry opened up the Grocery Deliverator. However, one look at the black portal, and Flint hid behind Sam's back, trembling and whimpering.

Sam cringed. "...Yeah, I _don't_ think he's in the right condition to ride on a Foodimal through the Deliverator, Barry. Maybe one of them can fly or swim Flint back to the island."

Tim snapped his fingers. "I know just the ones."

Soon, Flint and his family were riding on the back of a Subwhale down the Atlantic Ocean while the citizens of Swallow Falls rode on Foodimals, such as Eggplanatees, Wild Scallions, and Cucumbirdies. They could have easily gone through the Grocery Deliverator riding on the Cheespider, Tacodile, or any other Foodimal that couldn't fly or swim, but being there for Flint simply felt like the proper thing to do, even when he wasn't in any immediate danger at the moment.

Flint clung onto the whale's baguette back, terrified he might fall off, but Sam gently stroked his back. "It's ok, Flint. You'll be fine. See?"

She and the rest of the gang had been staying secure by simply sitting still. As Flint eased his grip and carefully arched back up, he gazed at the Foodimals swimming and flying around him, and the smiling faces of those riding on them. He may not have been able to fully grasp the memories of these creatures, but he still found the sight of them utterly wondrous, charming, and almost beautiful.

Cal was riding on the top of a Scallion's towering head. "WOO-HOO! Hey, look, Dad, no hands!"

"Son, you slide down that green onion head this instant!"

One of the Ratbird's feathers floated down on Flint's lap, and he observed it with wide eyes, staring at its saturated rainbow colors with awe.

Sam smiled and pointed to all the Foodimals around her. "You see, Flint? You _created_ all of this. You made all these beautiful creatures come to life, and they all love you for it."

"En Woo, Samspa! Hiiii!" Barry and his family waved and jumped up and down the back of the Eggplanatee they were riding on.

Sam giggled and waved back. "Hi, Barry!"

Flint looked down at his left hand for a moment, and gave then Barry his own small smile and wave in return.

-

Flint's mismatched eyes and slacked-jaw nearly burst when everyone finally reached Swallow Falls. He gazed at the colorful food wilderness as if he was experiencing it for the first time; the Watering Hole, Coconut Falls, the Cheespider web, the exterior of Big Rock Candy Mountain; all filled Monster Flint with a smile in his heart, even though he wasn't entirely sure why. He also came across some more Foodimals along the way, like Hippotatoes, Susheep and Wildebeets drinking at the Watering Hole, or Marshmallows swimming with the Watermelephants in Coconut Falls. Each and every one of them greeted Flint with a bright smile, a friendly "En Woo!" , and even a few hugs and licks on his face from those who were able, like the Marshmallows, Berries, or Sasquash.

Sam and the others made sure Flint stayed close to the group, and didn't wander off or hurt himself, but they watched his behavior with adoration and affection.

"Awww!" Brent smiled, "Flint looks kinda cute when he's runnin' around lookin' at everything and stuff."

Manny added. "His memories of Swallow Falls and its inhabitants seem to be coming back to him."

Sam had the most affectionate smile in the group. "They certainly haven't forgotten _him_..."

-

"This is it, Skipper. Home sweet home."

Tim pointed his son toward Sparkswood Labs. Just like with the Foodimal jungle, Monster Flint's ADD-like attention span made him fixated on the simplest of sensory stimuli, from the glow of the orange and blue neon on the "Sparkswood" sign, to the automatic sliding doors at the entrance.

After about five times of opening and closing them, Earl gently picked him up. "C'mon, Flint. We didn't come to your lab just so you could play with the door."

Everyone went up the metal elevator to the central tower of the labs. The lights immediately flashed on, revealing a setting that had the exact same layout and color scheme as Flint's original lab, only twice as big with two computers for him and Sam to work with.

_"Welcome, Flint and Sam!"_ his computer spoke.

Flint followed Steve on all fours as the little monkey scampered around the lab, shouting, "Home home home home!"

While Flint was being distracted by the bright colors and shiny computer screens, Sam turned to Tim and the others.

"Ok here's the situation..."

She then revealed the shattered, burnt remains of the Brain-Transmogrifier inside her green backpack. "Flint's Brain-Transmogrifier burst into pieces after he turned into a monster, so we have to make a whole new one from scratch _and _adjust the helmet so that it fits both his head, and the big lump growing out of it. We should have the right tools and materials to build it right here in Sparkswood, but we need everyone's help if we wanna get it done as soon as possible, and keep an eye on Flint at the same time."

Just then, Barb smirked. "I know just who to call..."

-

In the streets of Sunny Sanfran Jose, the remaining Thinkquanauts had been living in the alleys as hobos, their vests and lab coats reduced to dirt-covered rags. They were all currently lined up across a sidewalk downtown, either huddled up near a barrel fireplace, holding up their Live Corp coffee cups to ask passers-by for change, or holding cardboard signs that read "Will Invent For Food," or "Will Invent for New Idea Pants," and even "Somebody kill me."

While Flintly McCallahan was trying to sleep in a moth-eaten sleeping bag, he woke with a start when he felt his Live Corp cell phone vibrating, and answered it with a heavy yawn. "G-G'day, mate...Barb?!"

"Yep, it's me. So, you ready to be inventors again?"

Just then, every single Thinkquanaut in the group bawled in unison, "YEHHHH-HE-HESSSSS!"

-

In a matter of minutes, the Foodimals, former Thinkquanauts, and able-bodied Swallow Falls residents were all working together to build Flint a new Brain-Transmogrifier. Sam revealed the digital blueprints of his helmet on one of the giant computer monitors, which also included the list of materials and equipment they needed to assemble it.

Soon, the whole lab was buzzing with activity, everybody pitching in any way they could. Sam and Barb measured Flint's head and the protruding bump on it, and Earl found the perfect pair of fitting bases: a football helmet for Flint's skull, and a plastic cereal bowl for the lump. Flintly and a small group of Thinkquanauts used a brain-scanning device, converted from a handheld bar code scanner, to scan Flint's head, and send digital X-Ray images of Flint's brain directly from the device to the Sparkswood computer screen. Dr. Manny analyzed every brain cell in each diagram, and the Thinkquanauts used his advice to configure the web of colored wiring and circuitry inside the football helmet and cereal bowl. Joe Towne and some townspeople worked with the Foodimals to salvage material from outside, like scrap metal from the recycling bins or demolished cars left to rust in the Watering Hole. At one point, when Sam noticed that the helmet needed some webbing on the inside, Flint's Catholic School teacher lent her the hairnet she'd been wearing under her nun veil, keeping a warm smile on her obscenely-wrinkled face, as if she'd had a change of heart about her ex-student.

Meanwhile, Steve, Brent, and a few other Foodimals kept Flint preoccupied so that he wouldn't interfere with everyone's hard work. Much of the time was spent playing Monkey-See-Monkey-Do with Steve, imitating many of his gestures and mannerisms, like scratching his armpits, slamming an empty trash can against the ground, and even tearing apart Gummi Bears and biting their heads off.

Brent tried to teach Flint how to perform his catch phrase.

"Ok, Flint, like this. 'Uh oh!'"

Flint stood on his knees, still unable to walk on two legs, and struggled to articulate through his inarticulate grunting and moaning.

"Nnnuh...nnuh...Nnnuhh-ohhh!"

Brent's smile beamed and nearly crushed him with a bear hug. "You did it, Flint! I'm so proud of ya, buddy!"

Flint struggled to get himself out of Brent's grasp. "Nyah, nyah, nyah!"

Brent gently put him down. "Oops. Sorry!"

-

Around 12:20 AM, Tim dressed Flint into one of his "Science is Awesome" shirts, and lead him to his bedroom on the far-right side of the lab. As Flint sat up under the covers, Tim showed him some pictures in their family album.

He pointed to a photo of himself and Fran Lockwood standing a church altar as a bride and groom. Fran was in her early twenties at the time, and Tim had a full head of brown hair along with his mustache and unibrow.

"That's me and your mom on our wedding day, the happiest day of my life...well that is, until you came into our lives. _That _was even happier."

Tim turned the page to reveal Fran smiling in her hospital bed, cradling her newborn son in her arms. Tim was standing over his baby smiling and shedding tears of joy. Flint squinted when he saw his baby picture; his head and body were in far better condition when he was first born than how he looked right now.

Tim smiled as he showed more photos, such as Fran teaching baby Flint to walk, Flint blowing out the candles for his third birthday, or Flint walking off to his first day of elementary school.

"You and your mom were best friends growin' up. Even when nobody seemed ta understand you, she always saw the goodness in you and what you were capable of, which is what finally got her into givin' you your special lab coat."

Tim turned to the photo of Fran sitting on Flint's bed, smiling and hugging her young son while he was wearing his then-overized coat.

"In fact, I-I think I brought it back from the hotel. Wait just a second."

Flint watched anxiously from his bed as his Dad looked through his brown briefcase. After a moment, he found it and put it on his son.

"Here it is. I even washed it for ya, good as new."

Flint's eyes and jaw gaped as he saw the coat on his body. Even when his mind was in such a sorry state, he could feel a wave of emotions just from looking at his cherished memento, especially after glancing at the photo of his mother first giving it to him. After looking back at himself and the picture a few times, Flint's eyes welled up with more tears, and he hung his head low, sobbing again.

Tim frowned and closed the album. "O-Ok, ok, I can see this is making you too upset. Let's just close the book and get some sleep."

Flint tried to reach out at first, as if he wanted to keep looking at the picture, but he lowered his arms as soon as Tim put the book away. Instead, he took his lab coat off, and gave it a tender hug with more trickling down his face.

Tim was near tears himself. "...I think I understand now. You're starting to miss her, aren't you? Or at least, you're remembering her or what that coat meant to you..."

Flint started longingly up at his father with sad eyes. Then Tim smiled, dried Flint's tears with his thumb, and put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Listen, Flint. I dunno how much of this you can remember or understand right now, but, no matter what happens, I want you to always know that I love you, no matter how different you may be. You've made me so proud with your special talents, and I don't care if they come from any sorta mental disorder or what-have-you. If having Asperger's is what makes you so brilliant, so passionate, so kind and caring, then I hope you _never_ get cured. We all love you just the way you are, and I pray that, after all this is said and done...I never, _ever_ want to lose my special boy again."

Tears rolled down Tim's face as he sobbed his last sentence, and he gave his son a warm hug once he was done with his heartfelt speech. Flint may not have fully understood why Tim was crying in the first place, but just feeling and hearing his Dad sobbing on his shoulder made him gently rub his bulky shoulder as he wept.

Tim let go and smiled at his son trying to comfort him. "Thanks, Skipper."

He then kissed his son's forehead and tucked him into bed. "I'll see you in the mornin'."

Flint glanced up as his Dad quietly walked out and closed the door. After thinking it over for a moment, Flint put his lab coat back on, and buttoned it up all the way so that it practically hugged him when he wore it. With a warm smile on his face, he wrapped his arms around his torso, giving his coat one more embrace, and finally settled back on his pillow, instantly falling asleep.


	10. Stop!

"Danger! Danger danger danger danger!"

_"Ngh!_ My chest hairs are on _fire!"_

"Uh oh!"_  
_  
The foreboding silhouette of the incoming Presidential yacht made everyone in Sparkswood gaze in alarm, even in the wee hours of the morning. The USS Sequoia Mark II was armed with marines, with President Baine standing at the wheel beside Admiral Ravens, a middle-aged man with a light grey beard and a white uniform dotted with badges and medals.

Sam turned to her own crew in the labs. "The President's coming, and it looks like he's brought an army with him!"

Earl broke out into some swift karate poses. "If it's a fight that guy wants, we'll sure as hell give it to 'im!"

Brent glared bravely. "Yeah! I may be a chicken, but I'm not a coward!"

"I'm glad you guys are willing to stick with Flint," Sam answered, "but I don't think we _can_ fight the President and his men."

Earl's eyes went wide. "What the Sam Hill are you talkin' about, sister?!"

Brent gasped. "You're not giving up, are you?!"

"Of_ course_ not!" Sam cried, "I want to keep Flint safe more than anything else in the world, but the reason why the President is after him is because he thinks he's dangerous. If we try to attack the President first, his men will follow their orders and try to kill _all_ of us. Even though our intentions are good, _we'll_ look like the bad guys if we start a fight. We gotta show the President that Flint is _good_ inside, that he's worth saving despite all that's happened."

Earl wasn't ready to buy it. "And what if he _doesn't _listen?! What then?!"

Sam's glare deepened. "...Then we'll _definitely _fight back. He and his men aren't allowed to touch the Foodimals, so if we can't reason with them, then the Tacodile or Cheespider will."

-

The Scottish-American Admiral steered past the giant slices of pie and toast.

"If those food monsters lay so much as a claw on you, my liege, we'll fight 'em off to the bitter end!"

Baine answered with a stern tone. "Don't you fire a single bullet until I give the orders. These people will do everything they can to protect Flint Lockwood and each other, and I certainly don't blame them. We'll try to reason with them first, but if Lockwood and his friends are too thirsty for blood to listen, I won't allow any of my noble soldiers to get harmed. This whole fiasco started with me, and it'll finish with me, too."

-

Earl stood before a crowd of Foodimals, and lead them to designated sectors of the jungle. "All right, food animals, let's go go go! Get into position, but don't make a single move until we say so!"

The Cheespider jerry-rigged a giant web behind some trees hidden behind Sparkswood. The Tacodile hid underneath a field of four-foot-tall blue grass. A herd of Bananostriches stood at the top of the dirt hill they used as their stampeding grounds. Wild Scallons stood still beside the towering trees so that their slender necks and legs practically blended in with the foliage. The Ratbirds hid within the the thick leaves of a purple oak tree, their beady red eyes all glaring at the President and his men from a distance. Every other Foodimal too small to fight, such as Lemmins, Pickles, and Berries, hid in various trees, bushes, shrubs, and even hid within the Watering Hole, watching anxiously with their heads above the water.

Finally, the Commander in Chief set foot on the Swallow Falls docks, standing in the middle of a crowd of fifty marines, aligned in ten rows of five, each armed with a white AR-15 gun.

Admiral Ravens stood at the front. "Onwaaard, MARCH!"

As Baine and his men made their way across the jungle, most of the Foodimals watched from their hiding spots, staring up at them with either anxiety or bravery, ready to fight back or run for their lives. Inside Sparkswood, Sam and the others were armed with the closest things to weapons that they could find; fishing harpoons, weighted nets, Spray-On Shoes, Hair Un-Balders, even Celebrationators. They may not be the most efficient means of self-defense from the caliber of trained soldiers such as the US Marines, but everyone wanted to use _every_ option they had if it meant defending Flint Lockwood. Everyone then made their way down to the main lobby of the lab, and watched anxiously behind the automatic double-doors.

Little did they realize that the sounds of marching soldiers and crowd of Thinkquanauts rushing down the stairs and elevators woke Flint up in his bedroom...

The Admiral, President and Marines halted when they reached the main entrance to the lab.

President Baine stood at the front next to the Admiral. "If Mr. Flint Lockwood or any of his closest associates are present, step forward now!"

Without a trace of hesitation, Sam stood before the group, armed with a harpoon. Tim quickly followed, then Earl, Manny, Brent and Barb, all lined up in a row in front of the door.

After weeks of only seeing him through letters, emails and phone calls, everyone was finally getting a clear look of their Commander-in-Chief in person. His appearance definitely reflected the intimidating demeanor in his messages. Six feet by six inches tall with fairly muscular arms and chest; light blue eyes that were as cold as ice; jet black hair that had grown to the middle of his neck, with the bangs that were combed and smoothed down into even curves; a dark-navy-blue trench coat with black combat boots; and a pair of brown leather gloves over his wiry wrists that were already clenching tight, as though he could strike a punch at any moment.

For a minute or two, all was deathly silent. Both parties simply stood there staring at each other, waiting for someone to make the first move. The Foodimals hadn't budged an inch, and were watching the scene before them with intense focus.

Finally, the President broke the silence, and spoke in a stern, yet calm voice. "I am William Oswald Baine, President of the United States of America. I have come to Swallow Falls in regards to the very recent, alleged national security threats caused by Flint Lockwood back in Washington DC. Is he here?"

Sam took a deep breath, but Earl cut her off. "Yes he is, but if you think we're just gonna let you barge in and take him away from us, you've got another thing comin'!"

Sam bit her lip and whispered. "Earl!"

But Baine's voice hadn't risen by a single decibel. "I'm not here to simply seize him like a piece of cargo. I'm here to know for certain the severity of the situation at hand, to make sure that the American people are not in any danger because of Flint's invention."

All of a sudden, the marines gasped and aimed their guns toward the double doors. Sam and the others spun around to see Flint Lockwood making his way past the Swallow Falls citizens and Thinkquanauts trying to restrain him.

"Flint, what are you doing?!" Joe cried.

"Stop! They're gonna kill you!" Regina added.

Flintly tried to pull him back. "No, mate! Are you crazy?!"

But the determined inventor wouldn't hear any of it, and bravely approached Sam and the gang, glaring at the President with his mismatched eyes and snarling, drooling jaws.

The President was repulsed by Flint's ghastly appearance. "What in the world?!"

The Admiral cringed along with his men. "He's bloody _hideous!_"

Sam's eyes welled with tears. "Flint, no, what are you doing?!"

Flint crawled in front of Sam and his friends, standing as high as he could on four legs. He kept his knees bent against the ground while planting his fists on the ground, his arms standing tall and his back arching upward. The Marines still had their guns aimed at him, their fingers at the triggers, but Flint wasn't the least bit intimidated. He simply stood firm, glaring at the men waiting for orders to fire.

Brent covered his mouth in alarm. "Flint's tryin' to protect us..."

"Flint, don't do this!" Sam sobbed. "They're all here to _kill_ you!"

Tim's voice equally desperate. "Son, go back inside, please! I _beg_ you!"

But Flint looked back up and uttered a shaky, yet solemn, "N-N...Nyoh!"

Everyone gasped, including the President and his soldiers.

Flint's distorted pupils then widened with desperation. "N-No! No."

The Admiral interrupted them with a harsh voice. "Well, answer the President's question!_ Is_ he a threat, or _isn't _he?!"

Sam and the gang answered in unison. _"NO!"_

Even Flint spoke up for himself! "N-No!"

"Please, sir," Sam pleaded. "I know Flint's scared a lot of innocent people with his condition, but you _have_ to believe us when we say that this _isn't_ his fault, and he had _no_ control of his own behavior back there!"

Baine answered back sternly. "That was the same benefit of the doubt that I used to convince my administration not to press charges on him with the food weather that nearly destroyed our country as well as the rest of the globe. He regained my trust by proving himself to be a hero. Now our nation finds itself in another calamity caused by his inventions that can cause similar damage to the food weather if rectified immediately. How can I be certain I can trust him with the American people when they find themselves in _more_ danger after being promised they never would be again?"

"Because, that's _exactly_ why Flint wanted to change his brain in the first place: to make sure everyone would be safe! After the National Mall shooting, he was diagnosed with Asperger Syndrome, and he tried to get rid of it so that he wouldn't accidentally hurt his loved ones again with his lack of proper judgement and social skills. But what Flint _didn't_ realize was that by getting rid of his Asperger's, he also got rid of the special talents and advanced intelligence that came with it, the very things that made him so special in the first place. He was willing to sacrifice his love of inventing to try to please everyone, including _you_, but as you can see, he's ended up pleasing nobody, especially not himself...or us."

The President's eyes widened a bit more, but at this point, Sam wasn't even making eye contact with him. She kept gazing at Flint with a face of true heartache, and continued speaking as though she were reciting a eulogy, more tears running down her face. Flint stared longingly up at his girlfriend, his own heart aching just from seeing her so upset.

"What would really please us more than anything else in the world right now...is if we had the old Flint back, the _real_ Flint. He didn't need to change his brain to make everyone happy. We definitely would've helped him work through the social problems; even the doctor said that he wasn't far gone at all. All he really needed was-was to know that we all loved him just the way he was. And if everyone's efforts to try to change him back don't work...we-we may never see the real Flint Lockwood again. And I don't want any other Flint than the one I've always loved."

As Sam finally hung her head low, sobbing before her audience of Foodimals, Marines, Thinkquanauts and townspeople, Flint's face widened with concern, and he gently wrapped his arms around her for another hug. She, of course, hugged him return, and Tim, Earl, Brent, Manny, and Barb shared their own tears, hugs, and gentle strokes on Flint and Sam's backs. Steve hadn't been paying attention throughout the rest of this emotional scene, but upon seeing his master so distraught, he felt an instinctual need to join in the group hug, too, snuggling across Flint's back.

Every single marine lowered their AR-15s. To say that they were humbled by Sam's heartfelt speech and the love and courage from his surrogate family would be the understatement of the year; they felt lower than the dirt they'd just marched upon. Admiral Ravens discreetly shed a tear for the group, holding his hat against his chest. President Baine stared down at the ground for a moment or two. Then lifted his head up, sighed through his nose, and spoke with a sincere, yet gentle tone of voice.

"...All right, Ms. Sparks. It's become abundantly clear that our minds have been changed for us. Men, drop your weapons."

The soldiers followed their orders without a trace of hesitation. Even the Admiral dropped his own gun. Sam and the gang stared up at the President with wide eyes of both immense relief and gratitude.

Sam held her fists close to her beaming smile. "Y-You're letting him go?"

The President nodded and smiled back. "Not only that, but I shall take any action, within my authority as President, that is necessary to help Flint return to his true form."

The crowd of citizens and Thinkquanauts inside the lab were so overjoyed, they all rushed out the automatic doors, and stood around the President and his men, roaring with applause and crying with joy. The witnessing Foodimals all came out of hiding, cheering along with the Swallow Falls residents, and filling up the soldiers with hearty licks and snuggles of gratitude for sparing their beloved "En Woo."

After getting "special-sauced" by the Cheespider, President Baine wiped the goop off his uniform with a hearty laugh. "This is gonna be hard to explain to my Press Secretary back home_._ Now then, Ms. Sparks, tell us how we can help."


	11. Rewards All Around

The Admiral had all the Marines guarding the base of Sparkswood Laboratories while everyone was putting the finishing touches on Brain Transmogrifier II. Using an element that Baine could only describe as "presidential privilege," he called the DC Hospital that Flint had visited last week to immediately obtain a copy of his MRI photos, despite it being 4:58 AM.

As the November sun started started to inch up to the horizon, every single Swallow Falls citizen, Thinkquanaut, and Foodimal gathered around outside the main entrance of Sparkswood with their finished invention: a royal-blue bike helmet modified with the same knobs, meters, and siren as the original Brain-Transmogrifier, but was now hooked up with green spiral wiring to a miniature "helmet" for the lump on Flint's head, which was made of a white ceramic cereal bowl with a miniature orange siren on top of it.

Flint sat in the center of the circle while an exhausted Sam Sparks, Tim Lockwood, and a few groggy Thinkquanauts adjusted the knobs while studying the MRI photo. Sam then placed two D batteries in the slot on the back of the main helmet, two AAA batteries for the back of the mini, and placed the helmet on his head with the greatest of care.

"Ok," Sam said with a yawn, "this-this should do it."

Then, Manny handed her, Tim, and the Thinkquanauts each a pair of pink rubber gloves. "You might want to put these on. The rubber will block any electrical charge from shocking you."

"Thanks, Manny." Sam answered. "Now just hold still, Flint."

The minute Sam had turned the knob to "On," small waves of electricity sparked and streamed across Flint's body, and the sirens and lights flashed again. Golden sunlight started to coat Big Rock Candy Mountain and the tallest treetops and landscapes on the island, slowly flowing from the top downward. Everyone watched with wide eyes as Flint sat there wincing in pain, groaning and grunting deep breaths through his nose like an angry bull. Sam hesitated at first, but then, making sure she had her gloves on, she gently held Flint's right hand, letting him squeeze it with pain.

After a moment or two of just watching him suffer, the transmogrification finally took effect, and the sunlight was now pouring on everyone in the entire group, especially on Flint. The bulge on his head slowly deflated out of existence; the veins shrunk back underneath his forehead; his red mismatched eyes had cooled to his baby-blue irises with same-sized pupils; the deep groan in his voice slowly cleared up to his original tone. Everybody's eyes grew wider with anticipation by the second as they saw the transformation unfold before them.

Finally, Flint held his normal-sized head up with his hands, trying to regain his bearings. "Uhhh...wh-wha...D-Dad? Sam?"

Sam stared anxiously at him at first, not budging an inch. "Yes, Flint, it's me, Sam. D-Do you remember anything about your transformation?"

Flint responded with a sleepy, beaming smile, and affectionate eyes full of tears. "Yeah...and I couldn't be happier to be an Aspie."

With a wide gasp, Sam squeezed Flint tight in her arms, kissing all over his face. "Oh, Flint, you're back!"

Tim joined in immediately afterward. "I thought I'd never see you again, son..."

Followed by Brent's bear hug. "FLINT! We really missed you, buddy!"

Then Earl, bawling like a baby. "It's enough to make a _hundred_ men cry!"

Manny, with a calm, yet choked up voice. "Including _this_ hombré."

Barb. "And at least a hundred apes."

Steve. "FLINT!"

Flint's eyes lit up and he snuggled his lab partner close. "Steve!"

All the citizens, Thinkquanauts, and Foodimals crowded around Flint and his friends, filling up the inventor with hugs and cheers of joy, and Flint thanked each and every one of them in return. President Baine, who was standing fifty feet from the crowd, watched with a humble, yet sincere smile and nod with contentment.

After a moment, everyone stopped and stared as the President made his way to the center of the group. "Good to have you back, Lockwood."

Flint's eyes went wide. "M-Mr President, I-I...I dunno what to say..."

Baine then got down on his knees, too. "I hope you can forgive me for the way I've treated you. I had good intentions, but I didn't handle them well at all, and it was my pressure on you that made you take such drastic measures."

"Me too, sir, but about you, and to a lesser extent about the pressure part."

Baine chuckled politely, then stood up and addressed the crowd around him. "Now, I can see that you're all exhausted, so I'll postpone the big speech and award ceremony to tomorrow, and make sure all innocent names have been cleared for the press and police department back in DC. In the meantime, you should get plenty of rest. Everybody here has done this country proud."

The tired, yet overjoyed crowd cheered before their leader.

Flint tucked Sam into his own bed with an affectionate smile on his face. She more than deserved a rest after how hard she'd worked all. He then carefully crept out on tip toe, closed the door, and zipped back to his work desk, where a blank blue print lay rolled out on the top.

"I'll never be able to thank you enough, Sam," he whispered to himself, grabbing his white pencil, "but I really hope this comes _close_ to repaying you."

With a smile on his face, he excitedly scribbled away...

-

The next day, a crowd of three dozen reporters sat anxiously in the grassy field enclosed in the Rose Garden, while the President of the United States stood at his podium up front. Flint and the gang sat about ten feet from Baine's left in individual chairs, dressed in their black tuxedos and red gowns.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present...Professor Edward Greggory, head of the National Science Foundation!"

Baine stepped aside to welcome a middle-aged male with bifocals, a short grey beard and mustache, and a navy-blue tuxedo to the podium. After a brief bow to the President, he smiled at the clapping audience before him.

"Thank you very much, Mr. President. Each year, we at the National Science Foundation present the Alan T. Waterman Award to a young researcher in science or engineering whose extraordinary talents and creativity have been recognized by the Federal Government as a profound inspiration and influence across the nation. However, this recipient will not only be honored for his contributions to science, but also for his extraordinary, recent acts of heroism, courage, and integrity during several occasions over the past year when our country was in dire peril. Without further adieu, I give you, this year's honored award winner...Flint Lockwood!"

Sam and the others all stood up roaring with applause as Flint nervously approached the podium. Back in Swallow Falls, Joe Towne and a crowd of other citizens were watching the press conference on the Remote-Control Television, and they, too, burst out cheering and clapping. Many of the press also applauded, but at least half of the reporters had taken more than six dozen pictures in the span of 10 seconds. Professor Greggory shook Flint's hand, and gave him a 5-inch golden medal with a man's portrait engraved on it, and the words "Alan T. Waterman Award" arching over the head.

Flint then cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and spoke as clearly and calmly as possible to the audience watching anxiously before him.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. President, National Science Foundation, I couldn't be more honored to receive such a prestigious award after years of striving to make strong breakthroughs in the name of science. Even more so, however, I couldn't be more grateful for the friends and family who've lead me to my success. Without them, my life as an inventor, or even as a man, would not be nearly as gratifying or meaningful as it is today, let alone worthy of any recognition whatsoever. In fact, in light of recent events, I wouldn't even be alive if it weren't for their courage, integrity, and devotion to each other, even when it seemed all hope was lost. With all that being said, I have given my previous ambitions to expand Sparkswood Laboratories a great deal of reconsideration, and have decided to, instead, use the grant from my award to give the brilliant minds in Sparkswood, and the kind-hearted souls in Swallow Falls, just as much of a chance to shine in this country, if not more so."

Sam and the others were now practically on the edge of their seats as Flint continued.

"The facilities that were once owned by Live Corp will become branches of Sparkswood Laboratories, run by the former Thinkquanauts who have fully redeemed themselves from aiding Chester V in his sinister plans. They've all worked to the bone to save my life from certain destruction, and now deserve a second chance to contribute their talents to science."

Back in the main lab of Sparkswood, Flintly and the other Thinkquanauts were watching Flint's press conference on YouTube from the giant computer monitors, cheering and hugging each other at hearing Flint's inspiring words.

Flintly sniffed back a tear. "You're the best, mate."

"As for me? Well, I'm not one to go into details about my personal life to the public, but I will need some time to recuperate from my injuries, and undergo proper social skills training in light of my recent Asperger Syndrome diagnosis. I need to be better prepared to face the world outside Swallow Falls if I hope to be on good terms with everyone in it. However, if there's anything I want everybody to take from my experience, it's that I do _not_ consider myself mentally deficient with my Asperger Syndrome. Quite the contrary, I've believed long before my diagnosis that you should embrace the traits that make you unique, that what makes you different can make you a strong influence in the world if you put your talents to the right use."

Flint glanced at Sam and the others with an affectionate smile. "It just took me a while to realize that you never need to be afraid of what lies ahead if you've got good friends and a loving family to guide you."

He then turned back to the press. "And I will continue to do what I've always worked for my whole life: to use my love of science and inventing to make the world a better place for everyone."

The reporters stood up, taking dozens more pictures and filling the Rose Garden with applause. Sam and the others stood up and cheered from behind while all the Foodimals, Swallow Falls citizens, and Thinkquanauts cheered back home.

Later that afternoon, Tim, Earl, and Brent helped load everyone's luggage into their rented Studebaker. Sam was walking out the lobby with Flint, carrying their backpacks.

"So you wrote that whole speech in one day?"

"Well, all night, too. I had to come up with the right words to say how wonderful you guys have been to me. Oh, speaking of which, erm...could I talk to you in private for a minute?"

"Sure."

Flint yanked Sam aside into the courtyard behind the hotel, in front of a row of frost-covered rose bushes. He turned his head to make sure there was nobody around, and then, took a deep breath, got down on one knee.

"Sam Sparks...would you do me the honor of being my wife?"

Flint pulled out a tiny white box that had the Sparkswood logo on the front of the lid. When he opened it in his hands, Sam's entire face lit up. Inside was a royal-blue ring decorated with Flint's signature, white jagged-line pattern, with a small diamond glistening on top.

Without another word, Sam threw herself down on Flint, hugging him tight and filling his face up with more kisses.  
"YES, YES YES YES YES YEEESS!"

She then cuddled him close, resting her head on his chest. "Of course, I will, Flint Lockwood."

Flint hugged her and kissed her head in return. "I know I said I could never thank you enough for everything you've done for me, but inviting you into my family was the best thing I could think of to repay you. 'Cause now, we'll _always_ be together, not just when we work."

"...I don't think I could've asked for anything more."

The two blew their cheeks up again for another tender hug and kiss.

-

Soon, the bride and groom were kissing again at a church altar, having just completed their ceremonies. Manny stood a marble podium, wearing a black preacher's robe. Sam was dressed in a white gown and veil, holding a bouquet of roses, while Flint wore a white tuxedo with a rose corsage. Tim, Earl, and Steve stood at the pews, clapping and cheering for the newly weds. Barb and Brent stood to Manny's right, with Barb dressed as the "flower ape," and Brent as the "chicken ring bearer." Barb wore a white dress with a colored flower crown while Brent wore his chicken suit with a black tuxedo jacket and top hat, holding a purple pillow with his left arm so he could use both hands to clap. The rest of the pews were filled with Foodimals dressed in their own formal attire, such as little top hats, bow ties, dresses and flowered hats. Giants like the Cheespider and Tacodile stood in the back, drying their olive and sesame seed eyes with tiny handkerchiefs.

Later that day, as the sun was starting to set, Flint and Sam were standing on the deck of a majestic cruise, smiling and waving at the thousands of spectators who were happily tossing confetti and rice from the docks. As the grains of rice flew into the air, they popped their beady black eyes and stick-figure arms open, and used tiny parachutes to land safely on the deck. They then activated a small projector on the edge of the cruise's stern to reveal a light-blue hologram of a sign with words written in dark-blue digital font, "Just Married."

As the ship descended down the Atlantic, and the audience cheered and waved goodbye, the young couple shared another kiss, and Steve pushed the button of a white Celebrationator, which, instead of paint, shot pink confetti, and heart-shaped fireworks overhead.

_"Celebrate!"_

-

_"Exceptional human beings must be given exceptional educational treatment, treatment which takes into account their special difficulties. Further, we can show that despite abnormality, human beings can fulfill their social role within the community, especially if they find understanding, love and guidance." ~Hans Asperger  
_  
**The End**


End file.
